Leia's Very Bad Day
by Falfa'sGirlRubyRed
Summary: ...which turns into a very good night! OT in Lucas' Universe. It's Star Wars meets The Hangover. PLEASE NOTE: this update is an essay about Carrie Fisher and of my intention to continue this fan fic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I may not own this, but it's sure fun to play with.

Also, to anyone following my other story, **The Invitation** , I will update it soon - got sidetracked by family stuff, then it got too wordy and I had to edit it, so I had to put it down for a little bit. I promise a new (sexy) chapter within the month.

I actually found this story when I was writing that new chapter. This story is shorter and will be complete in a couple of chapters. Rated T for now, but M in the next 2 chapters.

Oh, and it again follows the AU because that's when I wrote it. I believe Zolo77 called it Lucas' Universe (LU) and I would like to adopt that to my stories as well - as George intended! (I thought that was the perfect way to put it - thanks Zolo77 if you read this.)

 **LEIA'S VERY BAD DAY**

Leia Organa Solo sighed deeply as she looked around the council table. The Friday morning meeting was running into its second hour, thanks to Admiral Ackbar and Borsk Fey'lya's bickering over a recent visit to the planet of Farina. Several times Mon Mothma had tried to steer the meeting back to order, but then one of the two would begin again. _Perfect_ , Leia thought. The week had been filled with awkward, tense meetings with the Farins, late nights negotiating contracts, after-hours gatherings for visiting dignitaries and the like, and she'd hardly seen her husband since he'd gotten back from another short contact mission a few days ago. All she wanted when she got home tonight, was to have dinner, take a nice, hot, bubble bath, and watch old holovids. And she planned on doing all of those things with Han.

As Senator Fey'lya started to babble again about some minor point of contention, Leia's over-worked mind began to wander. She envisioned herself and Han in a tub of steaming bathwater, glasses of wine left forgotten on the floor tiles, their naked, soapy bodies entangled and writhing against each other… Suddenly she was jolted her out of her little daydream by the mention of her name and she blushed at having been caught unawares, desperately hoping there hadn't been a lustful smirk on her face. Mon and several others scowled at her and by the time the meeting ended an hour and a half later, she'd been yelled at about the terms of agreement, accused of inaccurate research on the Farins, and assigned the task of negotiating another contract. Any romantic notions had been swept aside by the beginning of a headache starting in the back of her eyes. And she had yet to meet with Threkin Horm regarding Alderaanian business before lunch. Whenever that would be.

Around two o'clock that afternoon, Leia finally got a few minutes for lunch. She slumped into her office, head pounding, and had her assistant bring her a small Ciralian salad and a large diet purple fizz. The telecom buzzed on her fourth bite and she had half a mind to ignore it when she realized it was Han. _Nice to know the Force is good for something,_ she thought and answered the 'com. All the weariness of the day (so far), and the throbbing around her eyes began to ease as Han's handsome face filled the little screen on her desk.

"Hey, sweetheart. I tried to call you a couple hours ago. Busy day?" he asked, wearing his familiar lopsided grin.

"Aren't they all? I'm so glad you called and that it's Friday. How'd you know to call me now?" Just looking at him made her feel better. She actually found herself smiling back, which was unusual after a meeting with Threkin Horm.

"Had your assistant call me when you got in. Uh, listen, Lando dropped by. He's got some business here the next couple of weeks. Chewie and Luke and I are checking out his new pleasure yacht. You should see it. It looks like something out of those old Chiz Mordagon go-go holoflicks from years ago. See?" He rotated his 'com around to give her a look. She saw a lot of shiny chrome, aqua colored vinyl, and a white shag rug.

Leia gave a short laugh and rolled her eyes. "That's Lando all right."

Back in view, he grinned, "Yeah. Well, just wanted to let you know the guys and I were going to hit the town tonight, maybe set up a sabacc game or something, so I'll be out kinda late." Faintly, somewhere out of her line of vision, she could hear Lando say, "Han Solo has to check with the _wife_? What is the galaxy coming to?"

"Oh," Leia said, suddenly feeling deflated. "Okay." She tried not to sound too disappointed. Before they got married, they'd both agreed that they loved the life they had together and they didn't want to change it or each other. And she _refused_ to be one of those clingy, high-maintenance wives who nagged and demanded her husband's undivided attention all the time. So if Han wanted a guys' night out once in a while, she wasn't going to stop him. No matter how bad her day was going.

Han dropped his smile, his hazel eyes searching her brown ones. "We didn't have plans, did we?"

"No, honey. It's . . . it's been a long day. I've got another meeting this afternoon, a couple of debriefings, and I still have some reports to review. You go. Have fun. But not too much fun," she said attempting to sound glib, but when she saw his look of concern, she added, "I mean it. Really." She tried not to squirm or look away as he studied her for a moment more.

"You okay?" Han cocked his head, assuming his smug who-do-you-think-you're-trying-to-fool look, squinting his eyes a little for good measure.

Leia hesitated. _I can't hide anything from him; he knows me too well,_ she thought with a mixture of affection and exasperation. She let out a breath and said evenly, "I'm fine. Just . . . tired. There's so much going on here, I guess I'm a bit stressed out." Her eyes drifted down to the mess of flimsies on her desk for a second, but she looked up quickly and added with a wan smile, "But I'm not upset, if that's what you're thinking. So, you go out with the boys and have a good time. But don't do anything to get yourself into trouble, and don't get my brother drunk. And tell Lando, I heard him."

Han broke into a smile and shook his head. "No promises, Princess. You and I both know the chances of me getting into trouble are pretty good, and as for Luke, he's a lot of fun when he's drunk." This time, she heard Luke's muffled voice exclaim, "Hey!" in the background.

Leia laughed, "Yes, I remember the last time. Am I going to have to ask Chewie to keep an eye on all of you?"

"Ah, there's my girl," Han drawled. "You know, you could come with us, cut loose, have a little fun."

She smiled at him and shook her head fondly and thought, _Only Han Solo would invite his wife to tag along on a guys' night out._ That was just one of the many reasons she loved him so much. "I appreciate the invitation, but tonight I really just feel like going home and watching an old romantic holovid while I soak in the tub."

Han tilted his head and quirked his lip, thinking. "Okay, sweetheart," he finally said. "You go home and relax. And don't let them rope you into another late night again – you need to take some time for yourself, too, you know."

"I know, I know," she said, feeling her headache beginning to creep back, this time behind ears and around her jaw. "I'm leaving at six. Seven at the latest."

He frowned. "Leia," he warned, drawing out her name with a low, disapproving growl.

"Okay, okay, six. Sheesh," she relented.

Han, still dubious, raised an eyebrow. "Promise?" He knew her all right.

"I will, if you promise not to get out of hand and keep my brother relatively sober," she countered with her own raised eyebrow and smug look. She could hear Luke say, "For goodness sake, I'm a grown man! I can get drunk if I want to!"

"I just walked right into that one, didn't I?" Han said, shaking his head and chuckling. "Well played, Princess. Fine. I'll behave . . . as much as I can. And I'll do what I can about Luke, but you know how he gets when we go out." Again, Luke's voice sounded in the background, saying, "Oh, come on – I'm a Jedi for crying out loud!"

At this point, Han looked over toward Luke's voice and said, "Kid, we all remember what happened at the Blue Paradise Lounge the last time you got drunk. Now, personally, I thought it was funny, but apparently Leia did not. (Luke's voice was muffled.) Then I'll remind you: You hit on some blonde chick using that Jedi mind trick of yours, but missed and got the guy sitting next to her to agree to go home with you instead. He followed you around all night buying you drinks, telling you what killer eyes you have, and asking to see your lightsaber. If Leia hadn't sent me and Chewie into the 'fresher after you, I don't know what would have happened. You had jumped onto one of the sinks and were trying to kick him using some weird, wounded crane pose. Chewie finally had to deck the guy and drag him out of there. The guy was relentless, Luke! He was a big boy – he wasn't gonna take no for an answer! Then, you disappeared and we couldn't find you. Suddenly, you're up on stage singing karaoke until you got sick and then you passed out on the way home. Chewie had to carry you up to our apartment to sleep it off. And your sister made me undress you! She even found his number in your pocket when she put your clothes in the autovalet. (Luke said something else while Lando laughed.) Yes, she did - his name was Danny! (Luke's voice again.) I'm sure he _was_ a nice guy, and you _do_ have killer eyes, but I _was not_ jealous, for kriff's sake! Oh, nice. Nice, Luke, is that a Jedi hand gesture? Did Obi-Wan teach you that?"

Leia snickered softly and when Han turned his attention back to her, she said, "You have to admit, Luke _does_ have a nice voice."

"Don't forget about the killer eyes," he quipped. "Alright, look, you get home on time tonight and I'll make sure we don't end up in the news tomorrow, deal?"

There was a knock on Leia's door and Mon's voice called out, "Leia? Meeting's in three minutes."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Yes, it's a deal, but I've got to go now, honey. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

Han's lopsided grin reappeared and he winked. "I know. I love you, too." This elicited a hoot, an "Awww" and "Isn't he dreamy?" from Chewie and Lando and Luke, respectively. Just before he clicked off, Leia could see Han give them all a dirty look and a hand gesture of his own.

After clicking off her own telecom, Leia put her elbows on her desk, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples for a minute. _Just a few more hours,_ she reminded herself. Then she opened her eyes, sat up, and took a deep breath. After she gathered various flimsies and her datapad from her desk, she tossed the rest of her meal in the trash and snatched the diet purple fizz to take with her to the meeting.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: contains sexual content. You've been warned. You can skip over that part if it makes you uncomfortable. I won't tell.

Also, thanks to everyone who is reading this story. I hope you enjoy it (I'm enjoying writing it.) And thanks for the reviews. Okay, on with the story!

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Leia arrived home at 6:30 that evening, as close as she could make to her promised time. She'd spent the ten minute ride from her office to the apartment building angrily rehashing the confrontation she'd just had with Threkin Horm right as she'd been packing up to leave for the day. _What a perfectly awful way to end a perfectly awful day,_ she fumed, slamming a fist on the steering wheel of her hover car for emphasis.

Horm had floated into her office on his repulsor chair just as Leia had swung her purse over her shoulder and shut down her computer. Her assistant, Marva, had stood behind him in the doorway, looking distraught with her hands thrown up in exasperation. Leia had nodded her understanding to the older woman and had waved her off. She'd repeated silently to herself, _'Go home, Leia'_ and proceeded to pull her coat over her shoulders. She'd been about to bid him good evening when he'd started in on her. He'd made sure to tell her how disappointed he was regarding the slow progress she'd been making on relocating their fellow Alderaanian survivors to a suitable planet of their own, and how the survivors had been calling him to complain and express their outrage and frustration on the whole matter. With her head pounding and her eyes feeling like they were full of sand, as well as an overflowing docket waiting for her on Monday, she'd snapped at him that she was trying to remedy that situation all by herself, despite the fact that there were other members, such as himself, on the council, too, and that if the survivors didn't like the planet Dathomir, then they were certainly welcome to live anywhere else they chose. She'd also reminded him that she'd had to tend to the mounting crises of attempted Imperial uprisings, and skirmishes with alien species in the Roche system threatening the New Republic as well, and, oh, yes, she'd recently gotten married, so she'd been pretty busy, believe it or not.

Horm had coldly sneered back that it wasn't _his_ fault their fellow Alderaanians were looking for a new home, and while the Hapans' contribution to the New Republic was substantial, they would have had even more money and resources at their disposal if only she had chosen to marry the prince, then she wouldn't have had to worry about any of these matters – none of them would, and she'd now be Queen-In-Waiting of Hapes, living in unheard-of luxury, instead of being Princess of What-Had-Been, married to that ruffian, ex-general Solo, who had nothing of use to offer anybody.

And that's.

When Leia.

Had lost it.

All of her good breeding, all of her considerable social and political skills, and every lesson she'd ever learned about self-restraint, etiquette, and diplomacy had vanished in a haze of pent-up, white-hot fury.

She believed she'd called him a fat, rotten, bloated, self-absorbed ass-Hutt, who cared nothing about anybody but himself. She remembered saying that she herself hadn't been responsible for the acts of the Empire or Grand Moff Tarkin - she'd been taken prisoner when she'd risked her own life with those plans, unlike a useless tub of pudding like him. In her frostiest tone, she'd said that she'd been aware that when the Hapans had made the proposal, most of the council - he in particular, as well as some other members of the government, had only been too happy to use her like a bartering chip in exchange for their wealth, that they'd pressured her and manipulated her schedule and exploited the fact that she'd felt it was her duty as a princess and a public servant to respond to the request, and had used her own guilt about Alderaan to try get her to accept the offer, and she'd almost fallen for it. She'd argued that she had done more than her share, had sacrificed more than enough – more than most, and deserved to have her own life and personal happiness with the man she loved, just like any other being in the universe, and it made her sick to think she might have given that up because of people like _him_ – selfish, despicable, self-serving, do-nothings who only knew how to take from and use others to benefit themselves, and she thanked the gods she'd realized the truth of the situation for what it was before it was too late. She'd ended by telling Horm he might consider that if it hadn't been for Han, she'd have been executed after Alderaan had been destroyed, the plans would have fallen back into the hands of the Empire, the Death Star would still exist, the rebellion would have been crushed, and the galaxy would still be under Imperial rule, and that Han Solo had more integrity, more decency, and goodness in one molecule of his body than Horm had in the entire ancestry of his family's history, and that if he'd dared to say another disrespectful, filthy thing about her husband, she'd make it her personal mission to ruin him in every way possible that she could think of.

She'd stood over the fat man in his repulsor chair, breathing hard, jaw clenched, and so angry she hadn't been able to see straight. Horm had looked ashen and had kept sputtering, "You!" and "Well!" before quickly zipping off down the hallway. Shaking, she'd walked silently past a wide-eyed Marva to the lifts and spotted Mon Mothma coming down the other end of the hall toward her office, probably wanting her to stay late and work on something else, or worse – come in to the office tomorrow and work the weekend. Leia had ducked behind two people waiting beside her, then behind a large, indoor, zondola tree, and had finally darted to the stairwell to the parking structure, not sure if she'd heard Mon calling her name or not.

Home now, Leia walked through the studio apartment, past the bed, toward the kitchen, shedding her purse, datapad, and coat along the way. Usually, Threepio would greet her and start chattering nonstop as soon as she came in the door, but she'd loaned him to Luke for a while to help decipher some old datacards. She sighed dejectedly. No Han, no Threepio, just a quiet, empty apartment. She opened the refrigerator to see what she could have for dinner, but her altercation with Horm had taken away her appetite. Instead, she pulled out a bottle of chilled, sweet, red wine and took a glass from the cupboard and headed back through the main room.

 _It really is pretty nice_ , Leia mused as she entered the 'fresher and activated the lights. The studio apartment was only temporary until renovations could be made in other parts of the building, but Leia loved how it had everything they needed, and they were always in the same room with each other whether they were sleeping, or lazing on the couch, or eating (except in the small kitchen). The main room was large, and one whole wall was a window overlooking the city. One of her favorite things was to lie in bed at night and watch the skyline full of stars and the lights of various ships and speeders going by, while she and Han held each other after love, her head resting on his bare chest. She sighed heavily again, and began to undress, throwing her clothes in the autovalet, wishing she'd met the boys after work for a little fun after all. At least she'd be with Han right now, despite her headache, and she could tell him and Luke all about Horm. They'd know what to say to make her feel better. They'd draw her out of this mood.

Naked, Leia padded over to the tub, which was set within a large, tiled ledge that jutted out from the wall, and ran the hot water. She poked a few buttons on the console to add some bubble bath that smelled of vilantilia flowers. The scent was light and romantic and she breathed it in deeply, letting her tense shoulders relax, then she turned to regard the holovid monitor on the wall opposite the tub.

Earlier, during her afternoon meeting with Mon and other officials, instead of paying rapt attention to the protocol concerning the minutia of how reports were filed, and who reported to whom, Leia had let her mind wander to a much more important decision: which romantic holovid to watch during her bubble bath later that evening. As Borsk had droned on, emphasizing how crucial it was to submit reports in a timely manner, and which font was preferred, Leia had narrowed her choices down to two old favorites. **A Captain and a Cavalier** was a romantic drama about a small-town girl who dreams of a bigger life and is literally swept off her feet by a brooding Navy captain, who finally comes to terms with his troubled past. While it was sexy and satisfying, and held a special significance for her and Han, it was also a bit emotionally heavy. **Somewhere in the Stars** was satisfying as well, but sweet and sentimental, and much lighter fare. It was a sappy romance about a man who travels back in time to be with his true love, only to be ripped back into present time where he dies of heartbreak, but is happily reunited with her in the afterlife. Now, as she regarded the monitor, she bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about which best suited her mood.

"Media player on," Leia said. The screen instantly lit up with the message, SELECT ACTION. "Holovid of **Somewhere in the Stars**." A still of the holovid appeared, featuring a tall, dark-haired, handsome young man and a petite, beautiful young woman, both dressed in old-timey clothes, with the message, SELECT ACTION, again at the bottom of the screen, patiently waiting for the next command.

With the tub still filling and her movie poised to start, Leia went to the counter, poured herself a glass of wine, and studied herself in the wall-length mirror, from her smooth, white shoulders, then to her rounded, high breasts, to her flat stomach and lower. She took a sip of wine and smiled to think that the only person who had ever seen or touched her was Han, and he knew just what to -

The doorbell sounded.

 _Who the hell would be at my doorstep on a Friday evening?_ Leia thought, irritated. It couldn't be Han, because he lived here and would have just come right in. And it couldn't be Luke or Chewie or even Lando because they were out with Han. And besides, they would've just called. Oh, gods, not Horm! Or Mon! Oh, no, no, they wouldn't, couldn't possibly bother her at home. She waited for a moment and the bell sounded again. Quickly, she grabbed her silky, pale blue robe from the back of the door and threw it on while marching determinedly to the front door. She hesitated a moment, wondering if she should pretend she wasn't home. Their building was guarded and secure – whoever was on the other side of that door had passed inspection, and, after another ring, her curiosity got the better of her.

Leia stabbed the button on the panel next to the door lock and demanded, "Who's there?"

A metallic voice answered patiently, "Delivery for a Mrs. Nerfherder."

"Uh, hold on," she stammered, poking another button to get a visual. The little screen showed a standard delivery droid on two wheels holding a bouquet of flowers. _Han_ , she thought, smiling, and opened the door.

"Are you Mrs. Nerfherder?" the droid asked.

"I am, indeed," Leia said, stifling a laugh.

"These are for you, ma'am," the droid said, handing her the flowers. "You have a nice evening." It zipped off down the hallway before she could say anything.

Leia palmed the door shut and looked down at the bouquet of her favorite yellow faribels. The little card sticking out at the top read, **_L. – Thought you could use these, sweetheart. Love, H_**. Tears prickled her eyes. _Oh, my dear, sweet, wonderful scoundrel_ , she thought, and the doorbell sounded again.

"Yes," she said into the intercom, wondering what he'd sent her now.

"Delivery for Mrs. Laser Brain," the voice said. That didn't sound metallic. In fact, it sounded like -

She palmed the door open again to find her husband lounging in the doorway, wearing his familiar lopsided grin, the one he gave just to her.

"Han!" she laughed in surprise and flung her arms around him, the paper around the bouquet crinkling behind his back. He hugged back and gently nudged them through the doorway into their apartment, letting the door slide shut.

They stood like that for a long moment until Han heard her sniffle.

"Hey, what's this?" he said softly with concern, pulling her gently back so he could see her face. He knew she'd been stressed when he'd called, but he hadn't expected crying.

Leia tucked her head down and tried to wipe at the tears that had escaped her eyes before he could see them, but he put a finger under her chin to lift it up. She saw him frown with concern.

"I'm okay, Han," she muttered and sniffled again.

"Sure you are," he said, raising a doubtful eyebrow, feeling her trembling in his arms.

"It was just a long, tedious day at work," she admitted. "Too much petty infighting, too many meetings about every silly little thing, too many career politicians." She shook her head a little. "It wasn't like this when I was representing Alderaan, or even when we were fighting the Imperials; we were all on the same side with the same goals, but now, with all the special interest groups, and lobbyists, it's just so much –"

"Politics," Han finished for her, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he could. She was upset and, despite how he felt about her commitment to her job, he refused to give her any grief about it, because she believed in it, and that was partly why he'd fallen in love with her to begin with. Besides, after everything they'd endured, he knew, without a doubt, she would always choose him, always put him first, so he didn't need to say anything else.

"I was going to say 'chaos,' but, yes - it's politics," Leia smiled wryly and nodded. "You know I love being an ambassador. I just wish the ministers and council members and committees would let me do my job instead of micromanaging me. And it's not just me; they micromanage everything and it's just so tiresome. I guess that's what's getting to me. Well, that and Horm." She felt Han's muscles tense at the man's name. She didn't blame him in the least. Horm's meddling had helped to almost cost them their relationship, and he had been one of the first to call for Han's arrest when Han had taken Leia to Dathomir. He had been particularly insufferable at Han's deposition, during which, when it became apparent Han and Leia were to wed, Horm had been persuaded (by Luke – not with the Force, but Horm's own inflated ego) to switch sides, and appointed himself chairman of the Princess' Wedding Planning Committee in a simpering, obvious effort to convince everyone – constituents and colleagues alike – that it had been the plan all along. Then, after the wedding, he'd turned back into his old, slimy, underhanded, conniving self.

"What'd The Incredible Bulk do now?" he groused, a scowl beginning to form.

Leia lowered her eyes, and told him all about the fight, told him how she'd simply exploded, what she'd said, and how she'd darted out of the building before Mon could catch her.

"You called him an 'ass-Hutt?'" Han laughed, incredulously. Out of all the people and beings he'd ever met, Leia's insults and arguments were some of the most entertaining, probably because he never expected them to come out of the mouth of such a small, pretty, well-bred, proper young princess. And it absolutely drove him wild.

Leia swiped at her nose and couldn't help grinning. "Yeah, well, I was in the zone. It was the only time today, until now, that I felt good about anything."

"Sweetheart, I think you should do that more often," he said, looking her in the eye.

She gave him a questioning look in return.

"You know," he explained, "let it out. Shout at people. Take charge. This isn't a concerted war effort anymore or even the senate; this is a bureaucracy and you're trying to play nice and it's not working. Never worked with me, either." A corner of his mouth went up in a smirk, remembering all the times he'd seen her take command of a situation, all the times she'd yelled at him, or had attempted to order him around. "Do you have any idea how impressive you are when you start yelling?" Gods, she was something to behold.

"When I yelled at you, I thought we were flirting," she said, coyly, causing them to chuckle a little. Then she turned more serious. "But maybe you're right. Part of government work is having to put up with all the bureaucratic small stuff. I thought things would be different once the New Republic took hold, that everybody would want the same things, but some of them are, well, they're - "

"Ass-Hutts?" Han asked helpfully.

Their eyes met again, and they snorted soft laughter at each other.

Leia hugged him again, this time with a smile instead of tears. "I'm so glad you came to check up on me. You always make me feel better. I wasn't really hungry before, but now I think I'll order some Chiwanese for dinner in the bathtub, after all."

He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. "I didn't come to check up on you; I'm all yours tonight, Highnessness."

"Oh, honey, no," she protested, pulling back again, "I don't want you to change your plans with Luke and Lando because of me."

"Oh, I have plans alright," he drawled, grinning devilishly, causing her to blush a little, simply because he was so handsome and sexy and he was all hers. "But they don't include a suave, cape-wearing, ladies' man, or a still-wet-behind-the-ears farmboy-turned-Jedi who can't hold his liquor."

"No?" Leia whispered, feeling herself begin to tremble again, but this time with anticipation.

He slowly shook his head, holding her with his intense gaze. "Nope. They involve a certain beautiful, hot, smart, short, bossy – ouch (Leia poked him in the ribs at this point) princess, who is hopefully naked under that robe."

She stepped back and looked at him playfully, flowers still in her hand. "This robe?" she asked innocently, twirling one of the ends of the sash.

The alarm sounded from the 'fresher to let them know the tub had stopped filling and was ready. They both looked in that direction, then back at each other. It would keep sounding until one of them stopped it.

"I'll take care of the tub and order some food," Han said, huskily, stalking his way across the room, "you put those flowers in some water. Then we'll see about that robe."

Moments later, Leia brought the flowers from the kitchen, now in a vase, back to the common room and put them on the bedside table as Han emerged from the 'fresher, having taken the time to remove his boots and vest.

"Really? **Somewhere in the Stars**?" He made a face and shook his head in mock disgust.

"Yup. My bath, my pity party, my movie," she grinned. "And my robe."

"Is that so?" Han advanced slowly, his voice low and sexy. "Delivery's gonna take about twenty minutes, give or take." He stood a foot away from her, ready to pounce.

The backs of her knees were against the edge of the mattress, and she felt the familiar, sweet ache between her legs. "Whatever will we do to pass the time?"

In answer, Han gave her the full wattage of his lopsided grin, causing her heart to race and her thighs to quiver. He reached over and undid the sash of her robe. What he saw underneath caused him to catch his breath. Holy kriff, she was beautiful, with her full, firm breasts and petal pink nipples. The robe slipped off her body, revealing all of her. He stepped forward and crushed her to him in a desperate embrace, and the feel of her warm, naked body against his clothed one was intoxicating. His mouth sought hers, and they kissed eagerly, greedily, tongues wrestling and darting against each other.

Leia's hands pulled his shirt from his pants and she ran them up his ribcage, his skin soft and his muscles hard under her touch.

"Mmm," he groaned against her mouth, taking his arms from around her, to help shed his clothes. Pulling away momentarily and breathing hard, he yanked his shirt off, while she unzipped the fastener on his pants, slipped her hand inside, and found him. He closed his eyes with his brows slightly knit, groaned again, and let her explore for a few heart-skipping seconds until he couldn't take it anymore. He brushed her hand aside and hurriedly shucked his pants in a simple move, then took her face in his hands and kissed her again, a little more slowly while he eased her body down on the bed beneath him. He hovered above her, his hands on either side of her head, still kissing her mouth.

They didn't have much time, but some things could not be rushed. He knew what she liked. He knew what he liked, too, so he started with her breasts, letting his mouth wander down the smooth flesh of her neck. Lowering himself to his elbows, he took her right nipple into his mouth, nipping with his teeth, rubbing with his tongue, suckling none too gently.

"Han," she moaned softly, arching her back involuntarily, as liquid, electricity sent a searing bolt of desire from her breast to between her legs. He gave the hardened, tiny bud another little nip, then moved to the other one, tugging and teasing it with his mouth until he felt her hands pushing and pulling at his hair. "Han . . . honey . . . if you don't stop . . . I'm going to . . ." she panted.

He lifted his head then and shifted himself above her, their faces inches apart, eyes locked. Leia reached between them, guiding him. She felt him push inside and made a noise in the back of her throat as he began to work his hips. Digging her heels into the bed, Leia tensed and tilted her pelvis up, catching the rhythm of his movements as her arms clutched around his shoulders. They ground against each other with abandon, each movement, each groan spurring them on, and it didn't take long. With the emotional upheaval of the day, the impending take-out order, the physical stimulation, and the fact that she loved him so much, Leia felt herself quickly inching closer the edge. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations of their lovemaking: the sounds of their bodies moving together, the taste of his mouth, the feel of him, not just inside her, but his flesh against hers and her hands on his body. The sweet ache in her lower belly seemed to expand all the way to her toes and fingers for one numb, eternal moment . . . then . . . then . . . waves of pleasure surged through her entire being, lasting and lasting. She called out his name again.

Above her, Han watched Leia's expressive face and found himself quickening his pace, the sweet ache in his own belly beginning to build. As she finished, he leaned onto one arm and put a hand under her bottom, and with a few hard, short thrusts, went over the edge himself. Intense pleasure burst through him as he stopped deep inside, straining and releasing, gasping her name in ecstasy.

They panted hot little breaths into each other's faces, until Han leaned down and kissed her, slowly and deeply. Finally, he raised his head and they shared an intimate smile.

"I love you," Leia breathed, eyes glassy and sated.

"Love you, too." His voice was deep and soft now. He kissed her forehead and they disengaged until they were sitting on the edge of the bed, hip to hip.

Leia leaned her head against his shoulder and slipped her hand into his. "I really am glad you're home," she said, adding with a short laugh, "and not just because of this."

He squeezed her hand. "I don't like them making you cry."

She looked up at him. " _They_ didn't make me cry; they made me mad. _You_ made me cry."

His eyebrows shot up. "Me?"

"Yes," she nodded, smiling at his surprise. "I was having a bad day and you sent me flowers. Then you were standing in the doorway. You came home because you were worried about me and it made me cry. In a good way."

He smiled tenderly back at her, but before he could respond, the doorbell rang.

"Dinner's here. You better get it, sweetheart. My robe's in the 'fresher."

About twenty minutes later, the couple sat a few feet apart, facing across from each other in the hot, bubbly bathtub, a fitted metal tray between them, which now held several cartons of their favorite Chiwanese foods.

They talked and laughed over dinner, trading cartons. Leia favored the tangy orange poulet, while Han preferred the fried shrimmer and brown rice.

"Han?" Leia asked around a mouthful of ouvre roll.

"Um?" He set the wine glass on the wide, tiled lip of the tub and rooted in the carton of glazed porchon.

"Do you think this is unsanitary?"

"What? Eating in the tub?" He looked over at her.

"I think I dropped part of a dumpling in here," she groaned, fishing through the bubbles around her stomach.

"Leia, after all the things we've ever done in this tub, I wouldn't worry about a lost dumpling being unsanitary," he grinned lecherously, popping one of her orange poulet bites into his mouth.

"True," she giggled, "and thanks for putting that thought in my head." Placing a piece of wet dumpling on her napkin, she reached for their shared wine glass and took a sip. She sat between his legs, with hers over the tops of his thighs, her feet resting on either side of his hips. Now she nudged a heel against his right buttock and wriggled her eyebrows above the glass.

"Anytime, Your Worship," he teased, taking another ouvre roll.

She sighed happily, and, as they continued their dinner, she marveled to herself how only an hour ago, she'd still been fuming over Threkin Horm, and how she'd had a pounding headache, and she'd been too upset to eat. And now, here she was, relaxed, happy, naked, and giggling in a bubble bath with her sexy, gorgeous, naked husband sitting across from her. _He really always does come through for me_ , she thought, and suddenly she had an idea.

"Han?" she asked, putting her fork down.

"Um?" he answered, his mouth full of noodles.

"I don't think I want to watch a holovid in the bathtub anymore." She rested her elbow on the tray, and put her chin in her hand.

He looked up and swallowed. He noted her voice was not seductive, but thoughtful. "What do you have in mind then?" A curious smile played on his lips.

"Well, it's still early, only quarter to eight. Maybe it might be fun to go out with the boys, after all. What do you think?"

"Really? You sure?" He studied her face. "You were pretty beat. We can always go out tomorrow night." She worked too hard and got too little rest, as far as he was concerned.

"I feel fine now, thanks to you. Wide awake." She smiled sweetly at him in a way she knew he couldn't resist. "We both have been so busy lately and you're always telling me I should get out more often and enjoy the city with you. Do you feel like taking me out?"

He leaned over the tray and gave her a quick, sticky kiss. "I'll call Lando and tell him the Solos are coming out for the evening."

Half an hour later, Han sat on the sofa, putting on his shoes when Leia emerged from the 'fresher, newly made-up and coifed with her hair in a short, thick braid, leaving most of the bottom half loose and hanging over the front of her shoulder. She was dressed casually in a burnt orange, fitted, jersey tank dress that hugged all the right places and whose hem hit her lower mid-thigh. With it, she wore a cropped, blue denim jacket and pair of knee-high brown leather boots.

Han gave her a low whistle of appreciation as he stood. _Gods, does she actually get more beautiful every minute?_ he wondered. "You look great. I'm gonna have to beat the men off with a stick," he teased, walking over to join her.

"Me? Look at you," she grinned, blushing a little at the way he was staring at her. He was wearing the shirt she'd given him last Winter Fete, a brown, faux-suede, button down which he left untucked over a pair of dark blue jeans, with brown, suede, lace-up, ankle boots peeking out underneath. _He's way too handsome for his own good_ , she thought. "I'm gonna have to claw the women off of you. Men, too."

He smirked at her compliment. "Well, we _are_ looking pretty hot tonight, sweetheart," he cajoled with exaggerated smugness. "We'll both have to play defense. But any guy hitting on you is gonna be sorry he messed with my girl."

Flushing with pleasure at his remark, Leia reached for her purse and clucked her tongue with feigned disapproval. "Okay, hotshot, just put your blaster on stun - nobody needs to get hurt. And I'll do my best not to leave any incriminating marks on anyone fool enough to try to make time with my man."

His grin widened with delight, pleased that the tired, defeated Leia he'd 'commed earlier had transformed into this saucy, spicy scamp at his side. He offered his arm. "Ready?"

She was a bit giddy. Not only were they going to have a night out, but they planned on taking the lift down to the street, then walking half a block to the Sub-Shuttle entrance which led down a short flight of stairs to the public underground station. From there, it was a ten minute ride to the exit which led right up into the hanger where Lando's new ship was docked. It wasn't often Leia took public transportation, and the whole adventure that awaited excited her. "Let's go," she said, still smiling, and, taking the proffered arm, the Solos left the apartment.

Neither of them had any idea that approximately fourteen hours later, they'd be waking up in another bathtub hundreds of miles away, Leia would be sporting rainbow-colored hair, and Chewie would be missing.

**********************************Author's Note**********************************

This was actually just going to be a sweet, one-shot story, where Leia has a rough day, and just wants to spend the evening at home. While it seems Han's got other plans, he decides to surprise her and they spend a romantic night together, mostly in the tub, eating dinner, relaxing with a movie, and having a little sexy time with each other. That was the whole story.

But – then I got to thinking (always a dangerous endeavor): what if they did go out with the guys? What would happen to these crazy kids, out on the town with light-weight Luke and debonair Lando and stalwart Chewie? What madcap mischief might they get into?

I described it as Star Wars meets the Hangover, and, yes, I did borrow some from the Hangover, and some I just plain made up. I thought borrowing was allowed now. We'll call it an homage or a tribute. You don't even have to have seen the Hangover to get it, but I hope you enjoy it.

And I don't know about you, but the thing that always appealed to me about Star Wars, isn't the 'Wars' part of the title; that's just the setting - it's the characters and their chemistry and relationships that I like. And it (the OT) is satisfying - they fought a war to accomplish something - to right a wrong, to defeat evil, and restore freedom and the relative peace of everyday life for everyone. So, I figure our faves deserve normalcy after all they fought for and won. I figure that was the point of the story. Disney can have their version (where the war and evil and bad stuff just keeps going on), and so can I (and so can you - whatever you like.) While they're the ones raking in the money, I just write because it's fun. And, you know, maybe that's the best reason of all.

Anyway, if you've come this far, maybe you'd like to come a little further and see what happens next on this silly, little adventure that's about to take place . . .

(Hint: I'm not gonna lie – it's gonna get a bit wacky and out of hand at times. And I promise a bit more romance at the end of the tale.)


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note - sorry about the long delay. Family stuff, the computer ate most of my story a couple of weeks ago (the delete key got stuck as I was editing), and a whole bunch of other not-fun stuff. It's kind of long, but I do hope you enjoy (and yes, there's a lot more to come!)

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The Solos huddled together in the crowded sublevel shuttle pavilion, leaning against a stone pillar and holding hands, which was partly an affectionate gesture, and partly to keep ahold of one another as they were jostled and bumped by beings of every species who were out and about eagerly waiting to start their weekend. Despite their semi-celebrity status as heroes of the Rebellion and their high profile, galaxy-wide holovized wedding, neither of them worried much about being recognized; they were used to it when it happened, but mostly people didn't expect to see them in ordinary places doing ordinary things, especially outside the capitol. Besides, Han only needed to wear something other than his famous bloodstripes and vest/jacket combination to 'disguise' himself, and Leia, who'd been quite famous on Alderaan as the crown princess, was constantly being told that she looked different in person - much softer and prettier and smaller. She was grateful for that measure of anonymity so they could be just a normal couple doing normal things, like now.

Pressed closely against his side, Leia looked up at Han and smiled, observing the way he kept watch, eyes darting everywhere, one hand on the butt of his blaster he kept hidden under his shirt, just in case. She studied the angles and planes of his face in the underground lighting, noting how his brows framed his deep set eyes, the slight, off-center curve of his nose, the tilted slant of his mouth, and the scar on his chin. His rugged, masculine features and his confident self-possession were those of a man, not a boy, and had drawn her to him from the moment she'd first set eyes on him, much to her then-chagrin. Boyish good looks and charm had never held any womanly interest for her, not even as a teenaged princess and senator when her beloved aunts would try to pair her with the sons of other noble houses or statesmen. She was certain those young men had found her prickly, perhaps even haughty (ice princess was a term that had begun to be whispered behind her back), and she'd found them rather boring and bland, like dry toast or weak tea. Oh, they were nice enough, she supposed, but she had never found those qualities particularly attractive, had never found their rather chaste, awkward kisses thrilling (what very few she had allowed), had never yearned for some callow, insipid, pretty boy (she included Isolder in this category – once her political interest in him had been exposed and discarded, for all of his princely good-looks and charm, he simply lacked that essential manliness that comes from being one's own man and living life by one's own terms.) Hells, she had never yearned for anyone until a certain cocky Corellian devil had burst into her life. The fact that he'd been right about her preferences concerning nice men and scoundrels did not escape her. Han exuded a raw masculinity and a bold self-assuredness that made her feel alive with passion, secure and protected by his steadfast love, and gracefully feminine in a way no one else could. _I'm all yours for the evening_ , he'd said, and he was, no matter how many heads turned to give him appreciative glances and surreptitious winks, she knew he was all hers forever. The thought made her squeeze his hand a little tighter, causing him to look down at her.

 _Gods, how did I get so lucky to have such an exceptional man as my husband?_ she thought as their eyes met, _maybe we should have just stayed in the tub tonight . . ._

Han flashed her a grin as a shuttle came to a stop on the track in front of them, and gripped her hand a little tighter, pulling her with him through the shoulder-to-shoulder mass of beings that began to swarm through the open doors of the car. There were metal poles in the center aisle, and handgrips hung down from the top. Seats, mostly filled, lined the sides of the car, and he was quick to snatch one before they were all taken, holding his pretty little wife on his lap like many of the couples around them. He smiled, watching the delight on Leia's face as she took in the excited chatter of old friends perhaps meeting for drinks, parents lightly scolding younglings to keep still as they possibly took them to a special event or the grandparents for the weekend, and lovers out on a date. It seemed the whole populous was out tonight, ready for the evening, and she was enraptured, her eyes shining, a pleased smile on her coral colored lips.

Probably because he knew what a burden of responsibility she carried on her small shoulders, and because he'd seen her weary, dejected, battle-worn, and stressed out too many times to count (today included), he found her lighter expressions of amusement or joy or wonder deeply endearing. Which was why he was always trying to get her to have fun more often. She filled him with such an elemental feeling of deep love, that he couldn't help himself. Leaning forward slightly, he nudged her ear with his nose and breathed, "You like watching me, princess?"

His low timbre of his voice seemed to reverberate through her whole body, along with the now-moving shuttle, and caused her to tuck her head toward her shoulder, trying to hide her bashful, yet sly smile. "Maybe," she said in a hushed voice that matched her smile.

"Maybe, huh?" he continued, his voice pleased, but still soft and intimate in her ear. "Playing shy with me? That's adorable. But I know you better than that. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now? I bet you do . . ." With beings packed in against them, Han proceeded to whisper secret desires to her all the way to their stop, in that low, spine-tingling tone, making her giggle and squirm on his lap.

When Greenboro Hanger was announced, Leia stood shakily and caught his hand again, managing to chide, "Let's go, naughty husband," as they disembarked with hundreds of other riders.

Lando's ship, **The Smooth Operator** , was docked half way down the lot. It was sleek and white and had a retro look to it that did indeed remind her of those Chiz Mordagon go-go spy flicks that Han liked. As if on cue, the hatch opened, and there stood Lando Calrissian himself, in all his suave, sophisticated glory.

"Well, well, well," he chanted, coming down the ramp to meet them. He was dressed impeccably in perfectly pleated black slacks, a dark red shirt, and a matching black cape with a red and gold design woven into the fabric, and Leia wondered, not for the first time, how only he seemed able to pull off the look without resembling a washed-up night club singer.

Completely ignoring Han, Lando looked Leia up and down approvingly in that slick way he had, clucking his tongue. Shaking his head in slow wonder, he marveled, "How this scruffy street urchin managed to win over such a fine, foxy beauty is beyond me." Then he bowed, took her hand and kissed it. "Come, Leia, let me show you my ship," he purred gallantly as he took her arm to lead her up the ramp.

Han followed, rolling his eyes and muttering things like, "Oh, for kriff's sake," and ". . . mustache and a cape, for gods' sakes . . ."

"What happened to **The Dreamboat**?" Leia asked, naming the ship he'd loaned them for their secret return to Coruscant from Dathomir. She threw a grin over her shoulder to Han, who was pretending to glower at them.

"Oh, I still own **The Dreamboat**. This ship is a prototype for my new venture. That's why I'm here on business; I'm designing and selling pleasure yachts for an exclusive clientele," Lando explained, leading her into the spacious lounge area. Along with the white shag rug, shiny chrome, and aqua colored furniture, there was something else that made her stop in her tracks.

"A dancing cage?!" She laughed in astonishment, "Han, you didn't tell me about this!" The ceiling-to-floor cage was placed next to one of the couches, across from the chrome and Formica bar. Leia went over to stand in it, touching the bars in wonder.

Han leaned on the bar counter, grinning at her. "You like it? We can always get one for the apartment," he offered, his voice dripping with suggestion. Now he had a new fantasy featuring his favorite princess to think about.

She gave him a dubious grin and shook her head.

Lando laughed, joining Han at the bar. "I have a couple of other designs, too. **The Casanova** features a sunken, round lounge pit with a circular fire place surrounded by couches, and **The Rapscallion** has a huge sauna pool in the lounge with a swim-up bar. Actually, I got the idea for this retro look from those old spy movies Han and I used to watch in our salad days on Nar Shaada," he explained, then pointedly looked at her. "That dancing cage truly suits you, Leia," he drawled exaggeratedly for Han's benefit.

"Alright, knock it off, Sleazy," Han admonished lightly, "and you, your Worship, I never thought I'd say this, but would you get out of that cage, please?"

"Relax, Flyboy," she laughed and joined him at the bar, putting an arm around him. To Lando, she said, "I don't know about the cage, but I like this design. I'm impressed."

"Why, thank you, Princess," he said, stroking his mustache. "I could always use more investors or buyers if you're interested. But tonight, you're my guests, so first things first. Chewie and Luke are on the bridge, ready to take off. When you called, we thought maybe it'd be fun for the five of us to head to the Western hemisphere to Mas Regas for the weekend, you know, maybe do a little gambling, maybe see some shows, dancing at a club. What do you say?"

The Solos exchanged looks. Having already taken the tour, Han knew Lando had stocked the ship with numerous items such as toothbrushes, soaps, and other such sundries, and the ship had an autovalet, so fresh clothes were no problem. Any other item they might need could always be purchased once they got there. And Leia had never been to Mas Regas. Han raised an eyebrow and cocked his head as if to say, 'What'd ya think?' and Leia smiled and shrugged 'Why not?'

"Sounds like fun," Han beamed, turning to his friend. "We're in."

Lando rubbed his hands together and grinned, "Good deal!" He reached over to a small control panel on the bar and pushed a button. "Chewie? Fire up the engines, we're going to Regas!" Then he took Leia's arm again. "All right! In less than thirty minutes, we'll be in Sin Sector Central! In the meantime, why don't I take you on a tour of the rest of the ship, Your Highness?"

Han loudly cleared his throat and affected a glaring frown.

"Oh, all right, you're invited, too, you bum," Lando teased, and led the couple around the ship to show them the black and white galley, the two bedrooms decorated in wood paneling and clean, solid colors, and the large bathroom, complete with two sinks in the vanity counter, gold starbursts on the tiled walls, and an enormous mirrored bathtub/shower enclosure which could easily fit four to six people. Like most pleasure ships, there was no need to strap into a seat during take-off because the gravitational components were modified and state-of-the-art for the passengers' comfort. Leia could hardly feel when the ship achieved lift off.

By the time they returned to the lounge, the autopilot had been engaged and Luke was at the bar, using a tiny, blue, plastic cocktail sword to pluck maraschino cherries from a jar. He smiled affably at his sister and brother-in-law, as Lando made his way around the counter to play bartender, and Leia went to sit by Chewie on one of the couches.

"Hey, guys. Glad you changed your minds," he said cheerfully as Lando mixed drinks and set bowls of peanuts out on the counter and coffee table.

"Hey, Luke," Han said next to him, gathering dirty martinis for himself and Leia.

Luke leaned towards him and sniffed. He tried to keep from laughing. "Vilantilia flowers? Nice. That your new aftershave?"

Han looked coolly back, and without missing a beat said, "Nope. It's your sister's bath water. Anything else you want to ask?"

"Nope, I'm good," Luke said quickly, his voice higher than usual, and looked away as Lando and Chewie began to chortle.

"You sure?" Han asked, his eyes starting to light with mischief.

"Boys!" Leia's voice cut in as she wedged herself between them, her hands on her slim hips. She gave them both an amused, but sour eye. Ever since the first Death Star, they were like brothers: willing to lay down their lives for each other, yes, but also, quick to poke and prod each other with good-natured insults and ribbing. Normally, she enjoyed their banter, but now she set her eyes on her husband. "Really? You had to mention my bath water?"

"Oh, I'm just messin' with him," Han assured her, giving her a sheepish grin. "And, besides, he started it."

"I just thought he smelled pretty," Luke muttered, causing them to snicker at each other over Leia's head.

Leia's eyes darted between them. "You are both disturbed," she giggled finally.

"That is what this weekend is all about!" Lando declared, leading them all back to the couches with drinks in their hands. "Just having fun, cutting loose, and forgetting about everything else!" Chewie roared in agreement.

Luke took a sip of his Cherry Lime Rickey and listened as Lando, Han and Chewie talked excitedly of all the things to do in Regas, like card games and casinos, slot machines, numerous cocktail lounges, the Dwayne Newson show, and Zigfeld and Troy's Magic Show. Like Leia, he'd never been to Mas Regas either. His obligations as commander in Rogue Squadron, as well as his Jedi training and studies kept him pretty busy, so he didn't have time to go out very often and enjoy the nightlife, and he'd never been a big drinker anyway. Or even a small drinker. Back on Tatooine, when he'd been a youth, Uncle Owen had kept him pretty busy on the moisture farm and there really wasn't that much else to do, even with Biggs and the rest of his friends, and the few times they'd snuck beer from Copper's dad's cache, they'd been sick as drawtles and had caught hell from their folks. Uncle Owen had grounded him for a month from going to Toshi station – too bad about those power converters, and forget about heading over to Beggar's Canyon to shoot womp rats. Gods, so much had happened since then. Too much. But that was long ago and he was grown up now, with other friends and other family (and who could've imagined having a princess for a sister?) And, also like his sister, sometimes he needed a chance to blow off some steam, to put the adult away for a while and let the kid out to play. Unfortunately, like the kid he'd been back on Tatooine, he still wasn't very good when it came to handling booze. And therein lay the problem. Well, at least it was a problem for his sister.

"I would _love_ to see the Dwayne Newson show," Leia enthused, eliciting a hoot from Chewie, who was a huge fan of the singer, and loved to play his music during long trips on the Falcon, much to Han's aggravation. "What made you guys think of Regas?"

"Luke mentioned the Rogues went a few weeks ago," Lando said, tipping his glass of sweet vermouth on ice towards the tow-headed, young Jedi.

Feeling her eyes on him, Luke was quick to answer. "The Squad went when I was out on a mission. Sounded like fun."

"That figures," Leia uttered flatly, taking a sip of her drink.

Seeing her slight, smirking, why-am-I-not-surprised expression over the lip of his glass, he added, "What?"

"You know what."

"Leia," he began, but she cut him off.

"Last month Wedge came to my office to tell me he found you and Wes Jansen spooned together in his x-wing when you went out with the guys from Rogue Squadron," she explained, not without humor. "And I'm not sure I believe 'nothing happened.' I don't care what he says."

Luke folded his arms over the soft, gray, V-neck sweater he'd changed into earlier, and colored a bit as Han, Lando and Chewie began to sputtered laughter. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you? And for the record, we were not 'spooned together', he wanted to show me the new modifications to the deflector shields and we just fell asleep. That's all. Sheesh."

"Oh, my gods," Leia groaned, "that's the oldest trick in the book. They get you drunk, then want to show you the deflector shields or the hyper drive. Han used to try that with me all the time. Even tried taking his shirt off to tempt me." She giggled, remembering.

Han narrowed his eyes at his wife. "Maybe it was hot that day," he protested unconvincingly.

Leia slowly turned her head to look at him. "On Hoth?!"

Chewie's warbling laugh was infectious. "Okay, but you can't blame me for trying," Han relented with a wink and lopsided grin for his wife. "Took a long time 'til you'd let me show you the hyper drive."

"That never works anyway," Lando added, with a knowing smile. "Nobody ever falls for that, no matter how drunk they are. Can you imagine?"

Luke averted his eyes and took a long sip from his straw. His momentary silence among their derisive laughter drew their attention and he felt his color rise again. "Well," he cleared his throat, "see, Wes spilled beer on his shirt and –"

"Oh, Luke, no," Leia groan again. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, as if pained.

"Kriff, maybe I went after the wrong Skywalker" Han murmured softly with a look of comical regret. For that remark, he received more laughter from Lando and Chewie, and an elbow to the ribs from Leia, who was doing her best to appear stern.

"It's not funny," she retorted, trying not to laugh, "those Rogues are wild hooligans when they go out. And you know Luke. They could take advantage of him."

"Oh, here we go, just like my Uncle Owen," Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. Then he mimicked, "'Luke, what were you doing out 'til dawn with Biggs again?' 'Luke, you and Todd kept us up all night with all the racket you were making in your room.' 'Luke, those boys you hang out with are only after one thing –'" he paused to take a sip of his drink, before continuing, "'a good time!'" Now he looked at his sister who was sitting across from him. "They're good guys, and, yeah, maybe we get a little wild sometimes, but I don't go out much and I don't drink very often, maybe once a month if that, but you make me sound like a naïve fifteen year old alcoholic in some afterschool special – Luke's Terrible Secret."

"Well," Leia reasoned, "I'm just afraid that the Terrible Secret may be Wedge coming to tell me that you and Wes eloped in some drunken stupor and are now registered for china patterns and matching bath robes. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

By this time, Lando was all but doubled over, Chewie was holding his stomach, and Han held a hand over his mouth for fear of another of the princess' elbow jabs.

"Okay," Luke began slowly, "first of all, if I was going to elope with any of the Rogues, do you seriously think it'd be Wes Jansen? I mean, really? Have you seen him with his shirt off?" He made a face as if to say, 'duh!' causing a whimper of desperate laughter to escape from behind Han's hand. (Leia resisted giving him another poke to the ribs, but did manage a warning look, while biting the inside of her cheek to keep from cracking up with herself.) "Tycho, okay, even Hobbie, maybe, but Wes? Please. And second, uh, hello? I'm not attracted to, nor do I play for the home team, and I'm not about to elope with one of them, not even if I'm drunk. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Leia actually liked that her brother got into some mischief now and again. He, like she, needed an outlet once in a while after all the serious business and difficult times they'd been through. But she was his sister, and she still worried. Pointing an olive speared on a toothpick at him, she said, "But that's my point: you lose control and weird things happen when, on the occasion, you do go out drinking - things you'd never do when you're sober."

"Like Wes Jansen?" Han couldn't help himself; it just slipped out. For several moments, the friends snorted and snickered helplessly. Leia tried to give him a look of dismay through her laughter, and Luke pelted him with a few well-aimed peanuts in retaliation.

Finally, Luke said, "I get it, Leia. But I'm an adult. Maybe I get a little out of hand when I go out with those guys, but I'll be fine – I promise." He loved his sister and appreciated her concern, but really, he was pretty sure Han had done worse than dirty-dance and twerk on a bar counter, or enter a wet t-shirt contest on a dare.

Han put an arm around her shoulders. "He'll be fine, sweetheart," Han soothed, mirth still lurking in his tone. "We won't let him near anybody's hyper drive, right Chewie?"

Chewie rumbled with soft laughter. Wookiees were notorious hard drinkers, brewing some of the most potent ale in the galaxy, but outside of Kashyyyk and outside of the Falcon, Chewie rarely got drunk, preferring to play the 'designated driver.' Besides, it would take an awful lot of Alderaanian ale or Corellian lager to even make him woozy. [That's right, Little Princess, I will make sure nobody spoons or forks the Farmboy.]

Luke joined in the teasing laughter, sat back and crossed his legs, and hissed, "All right, all right, very funny, Chewie," as he crunched ice from his drink.

Just then, the central computer, using a voice with a Highland brogue from the planet Brigadooine (like the actor who played the spy in those old movies), announced that **The Smooth Operator** was approaching Mas Regas. Drinks in hand, the merry little group of five gathered in the bridge to watch the approach from the huge viewing deck window.

"It's beautiful," Leia gasped at the scene before her. The city was lit up with billions of twinkling, colorful lights under the dark, starry night sky. She recognized the signs from The Dunes and Teaser's Palace, and billboards for shows featuring showgirls, trained and performing exotic animals, and past-their-prime singers. It all looked so exciting, like fun just waiting to be had. It seemed hard to believe just a short time earlier, she'd been looking forward to spending the evening alone in her bathtub with an old holovid and some Chiwanese food, and now, here she was with her husband, brother and friends, ready to take on the infamous Mas Regas strip.

Lando cleared his throat. "I think this calls for a toast." They held up their drinks in a circle. "To the five of us!" As the friends clinked glasses, he added, "And to an unforgettable evening!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leia would never be sure exactly what had woken her. It might have been the pain and stiffness of her hip against the hard surface of the bathtub. It could have been the pounding headache that made the one she'd had at work yesterday seem like a mere papercut in comparison. Or it could have been the sound of Lando shrieking in her dream. As her eyes opened and she blinked blearily, she wondered what all the colorful ropes resting on Han's chest were. She moved a hand up to press against her pounding temple, registering the fact that she was, indeed, nestled next to Han and they were both fully clothed when the shrieking from her dream began again. Only she wasn't dreaming this time.

All at once, Han was instantly awake, having heard the same anguished sound. The couple spent a bewildered moment awkwardly trying to clamber out of the tub (how the hell had they ended up there?) and then they were off and running toward the screaming, Han in the lead. Motion-sensor courtesy lights lit up the hallways, making them both wince in pain at the brightness.

The sound led them to the door to one of the bedrooms, and Han, blaster in hand, slapped at the control panel, and the two of them spilled into the room, ready for battle if necessary. They found Lando, still dressed in his black pants and red shirt from the night before, standing in front of the dresser mirror with his hands over his mouth, wild-eyed and whimpering.

Han's head jerked around, looking for hidden culprits in every corner, while keeping Leia behind him with his free arm. "Are you okay? What's wrong?!" he demanded in a deep, groggy voice, eyes jumping, attempting to get a grasp on the situation.

"She's gone, Han! She's gone!" Lando moaned.

"Who's gone, buddy? What happened?" Han asked, still looked around, confused.

Leia peered cautiously around Han's side. She sensed no danger, but something was terribly wrong. And then all at once, she saw it. "What happened to your _hair_?!" she exclaimed.

Still staring in the mirror, Lando put one hand up to his head to feel the jheri curled hair that now adorned his head. "My _hair_?! My _hair_?!" he lamented, the other hand still covering his mouth, and turned to face them. "Who's talking about– _my_ hair? What about _your_ hair!" he gasped, eyes widening at the sight of the princess.

Leia's hands flew up to her own head as Han turned in confusion to stare at her, his mouth dropping open. She leapt toward the mirror, her heart in her mouth. "What the hell . . ." she muttered absently, turning her head this way and that. Instead of the simple, loose, chestnut braid she'd left the house with last night, her hair was now plaited in perhaps fifty long braids down her back, in dozens of deep colors – teal, fuchsia, marigold, emerald, cobalt, plum, ruby, and burnt orange to match her dress. "Oh, my stars!"

"What the kriff is going on here?!" Han demanded, not sure where to look – at Lando and his glossy, spiraled curls or Leia and her rainbow braids.

Leia continued to stare, fascinated, in the mirror. "And my face! Han, look at me! I look like Bozo the Drag Queen!" She turned frantically to her husband.

"Great skies, Leia!" he snorted, turning her face in his hand. It was true. Her eyes shimmered with gold eyeshadow, ringed with smoky kohl, fringed with thick, long false eyelashes, and her lips were full, lush, and tomato-red. Han rubbed at a rouged, contoured cheek to no avail; it seemed she'd been made up with semi-permanent cosmetics. "Okay. Okay. I'm sure I've got some solvent on the Falcon. Some oil or turpentine. It'll be okay. We'll dye your hair back." He hugged her. "It's okay, baby. You're okay."

"That's fine for her," Lando moaned, "but it's going to take more than turpentine to fix my problem!"

They both turned to him. A smile danced on Han's lips. "Now, Lando, if anyone can make the wet look work, it's you," he began, "but tell me something first. Is she a very kinky girl? The kind you don't take home to mother? Or is she a super freak? Super freak?"

"She's super freaky!" Leia finished as they both snickered.

"It's not funny!" he insisted, his voice muffled by his hand, then glared at Leia. "And you should talk, Rainbow Bright!"

"Okay, okay," Han said, "it's just hair, we're all in one piece, we're okay."

"No, Han, we're not. We're not all in one piece and we're not okay." Lando took a deep breath and dramatically removed his hand. "She's gone!"

They both gasped. Leia winced and quickly turned her head away, closing her eyes, as if to unsee what she'd just seen, and Han looked stricken, and instinctively put up a hand in front of his wife's face to shield her from the sight before them.

"Lando?" he whispered. "Is that really you?"

The space above Lando's lip, where once grew a silky, sexy mustache, was now a barren expanse of smooth-shaven upper lip.

"It's me, buddy. It's me." His voice was shaky with emotion.

Han nodded, thinking. "So. Okay. All right. We must've had quite a time last night. Uh, nobody has to know about this." He absently ran a hand through his hair. "We can, we can fix all this. Right?"

"Han?" Leia asked slowly, "did you get a haircut?" She peered up at him curiously.

Without a word, he looked up in the mirror, almost afraid at what he might find.

"Wow," was all he could say, as he moved his head about to get a better look at his new haircut.

Lando and Leia crowded in on either side of him.

Han's hair had been trimmed perfectly to accentuate the shape of his face, and highlighted with little golden streaks that brought out the green and gold in his hazel eyes. If anything, he looked even more handsome than ever.

"Wow," Leia echoed breathlessly, looking between Han and his image in the mirror, as if trying to decide who was better looking.

Lando frowned in the mirror. "I don't remember anything."

"Damn. Me, either," Han said, still admiring himself. "What did we do last night?"

Suddenly, Leia's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my gods'! Luke!"

The two men looked at her reflection with growing alarm.

"You know how he gets! He's like a gremlin when he drinks – remember when we found him on the Falcon wearing a bra?!" she asserted, "So if we woke up like this -" she said, pointing at the three of them in the mirror, but before she could finish, Han cut her off.

"Then what about Luke?!"

They scrambled, Lando's mustache and Leia's colorful braids forgotten for the moment.

Han checked the galley and the bridge, while Lando checked the adjoining bathroom between the bedrooms. He found Chewie's slumbering form under a mound of blankets in the other bedroom, but that was all until they heard Leia call from the lounge.

The two men jogged up behind her, noting the wreckage – scattered drinks, half-eaten plates of food, cushions and pillows thrown all over the room, cards and cigar butts littering the table - and came to a complete stop on either side of the princess.

Before them, Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, Commanding Officer for the Rebel Alliance and Rogue Squadron, destroyer of the first Death Star, and decorated war hero, lay sleeping, sprawled in the dancing cage, his hair messed and mashed against the bars, cocooned in some throw blankets and clutching a ventriloquist's dummy to his chest.

Lando only had to take one look at the dummy before he started to react. "What is that thing! Tell me it's not a puppet! Do not tell me it's a puppet!" he squealed and darted back to hide behind all five feet, one inch and ninety-five pounds of Princess Leia.

Leia peeked over her shoulder at the former General Calrissian cowering behind her, to give him a withering look, but did a double take instead. The sight of him sans mustache was totally unnerving, and surprised her all over again.

"Lando," Han sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose "dude, I think we've heard you scream enough for one day." Besides, his head was aching something fierce from one of the worst hangovers he could remember. Gingerly, he nudged Luke's foot with his own. "Hey, kid," he said gently so as not to startle him, because he most likely had his own headache to contend with.

Luke stirred, swiping one hand over his face and grunting softly as his eyes blinked slowly open. _Oh, my aching head. I really tied one on this time. Leia is going to kill me,_ he thought as he sat up stiffly, pushing aside the confining blankets, and felt something solid and heavy drop into his lap. Puzzled, he lifted his head, aware that he was being watched. His eyes simply refused to believe what they saw and for a stunned, silent moment, he just sat there dazed and confused. The colored braids of Leia's hair! Han had highlights! And was that Lando?! No, it couldn't be, could it?! It was! Then, despite himself, he let out a chuckle. "What happened to you three?!"

Han, Leia, and even Lando exchanged mirthful glances, then looked down at him again.

"Um, what happened to _you_?" Han asked. Beside him, Leia turned away, leaned her head against his arm, and began to snicker, which set both him and Lando off.

"Me? What, uh, what?" Luke stammered, looking down at himself. Last night he'd been wearing a pair of dark, charcoal colored pants and a lighter gray sweater, but now he found himself decked out in what appeared to be a shiny, black, lycra-spandex uni-tard with something sparkly written on the top. He touched the sharp little rhinestones and then his hands settled on the hard bundle in the blanket on his lap.

"Don't -!" Lando tried to warn him, but it was too late.

Luke pulled the blanket away, took one look at the dummy and screamed. Lando screamed. They stopped, looked at each other and screamed again.

Han and Leia pressed their hands over their ears. "Stop hollering! It's just a dummy!" Han shouted. Oh, his head ached, and his ears hurt. What hell had they done?

"Okay, everybody, calm down," Leia said in a hushed, raspy voice, which seemed to reach both Luke and Lando (who was still behind her.) "Luke, it's a ventriloquist's dummy. It's – oh. Your hair. Something happened to your hair, too." She bit her lips.

Luke's hands flew to his head. Instead of finding his normal, soft, silky mop, it felt rough and fluffy. Curly. "Do I have a perm?!" he demanded, feeling it again, with rising alarm. "I do. I have a perm. I woke up holding a puppet. I'm wearing a spandex leotard. Dear gods. Uncle Owen was right. He warned me this would happen!"

"Now, Luke, I'm sure it's not so bad," Han said, voice on the verge of cracking up again, "let's just take it easy."

Blue eyes flashed scornfully at him. "Take it easy? Look who's talking! _You_ look . . . fantastic! I don't think I've ever seen you look better! _We_ look like circus folk! And I'm not entirely sure that's really Lando!" (At this, Lando uttered a small indignant gasp and clapped his hand over his mouth again.)

"Where's Chewie?" Leia asked, looking up at Han. _Damn, Luke's right. He does look fantastic. Holy kriff!_

"Chewie's sleeping it off in the other bedroom," Lando answered in a muffled voice. He'd taken a few steps back and had gotten himself under a measure of control.

"Okay, good. Let him sleep," Han said, thinking. "Come on. Let's see what we can do about . . . all this." He swirled a finger in the air indicating the hairy predicaments of the other three. Luke shoved the puppet from his lap, making Lando take another jumping step back, and the four of them trudged back to the large, spacious bathroom in which Han and Leia had fallen asleep.

They stood in front of the wall-length mirror above the sinks, each examining themselves with renewed surprise and alarm. Except, of course, for Han, who found himself even more exceptional than at first glance.

Lando rummaged in one of the drawers to find something – anything - an eyebrow pencil, perhaps - to fill in his missing mustache, but found nothing, and, except for lipstick, Leia had no cosmetics in her purse, either, so he ran to the bedroom to see if he could find anything else.

"'Shazam?'" Luke frowned dejectedly, reading the rhinestones on his tank top uni-tard. The Z was designed with a lightning bolt. He tried patting down his hair with water, but it only defined the tight curls even more. "Kriff," he swore at his reflection, looking over at his sister for sympathy. Surely somebody sporting such garishly colorful braids could understand his dilemma, would probably be staring in horrified fascination at her own reflection. But instead, he found Leia staring moony-eyed at Han.

With a huff, he sat on the vanity bench. "Oh, come on! You can put your eyes back in your head, Leia!"

"Huh?" she asked, blinking, turning to see her brother with his arms crossed, glaring at her.

"Look at us! I look like . . . some . . . deranged . . . Saturday morning . . . cartoon superhero, and you . . . look like . . . that girl, Skanki, from that Jerky Shore reality show . . . that I . . . totally never watch!" Luke sputtered impudently.

Leia touched her braids and considered his words. She would certainly never be recognized now. "You think I look like Skanki?" Skanki was a rough, nasty, loud-mouth girl. The idea intrigued her.

"Well, like that, anyway," he relented a little more softly. Then his eyes rested on his own reflection again. "It's not fair. Why does _he_ (jerking a thumb at Han) get to look like that, and _I_ look like . . . that weird kid . . . in that Lagoon movie?"

"Hey," Han smiled and said, more to his reflection, than Luke, "it's me." He winked at himself and turned his head to admire the highlights again.

Leia smiled approvingly at him and Luke rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh.

Lando came back with supplies: a wool hat, sunglasses, scarves, a thick, black magic marker, hair gel, mousse, a brush and a comb. He picked up the magic marker and regarded his upper lip in the mirror.

Leia moved behind her brother and picked up a tube of hair gel and began to work it into his hair. "He was pretty cute, if I remember," she mused, sharing a smile with Han in the mirror.

Not to be placated, Luke deadpanned, "Oh, yes, I'm absolutely adorable." His hair now sat in a mushroom shape on top of his head. "The girl in that movie would have taken one look at my hair, jumped in the ocean, and kept on swimming. The end!"

Leia laughed and picked up a comb. When she was done, Luke's hair stood on end in a furry mass, as if blown back and away from his face.

He gave his sister a flat stare. "I should be holding the frayed end of an extension cord and sitting in a bathtub."

She sighed and stepped back. "I tried. Dunk your head under the faucet. It looks better curly than frizzy."

While Luke wet his hair, at the other end of the counter, Lando, nudged Han with an elbow and snickered, "He looks like that guy in that movie – Napoleon Blastomite."

"That's pretty big talk coming from a guy who's drawing a magic marker mustache on his face," Luke retorted, twisting a towel on top of his head. "And, by the way, I have to ask - is she a very kinky girl? The kind you don't take home to mother? Or is she a super freak? Super freak?"

"She's super freaky!" Leia and Han said together, laughing.

Lando paused, magic marker in hand, and narrowed his eyes at his friends. "For your information, I think I look like that actor who's in every movie ever made, that Samuel L. Something, more than James Rick. And - uh," he hesitated, and squinted at Han, distracted by something glinting from his ear. "Han, is that an earring?"

Han looked puzzled, then peered into the mirror again. Sure enough, a small gold hoop hung from his left earlobe. "Huh."

Leia came over to investigate. "That looks like my earring," she said, and felt her earlobes, finding the right one missing. "You got your ear pierced," she said simply, reaching up to turn his face in her hand (Luke smiled expectantly behind her, waiting for Leia to let him have it.) "It looks . . . good." She smiled slowly, dazedly at him again. "Real good."

"Son of a kriff!" Luke scowled, pouting at them, arms crossed defiantly over his bedazzled Shazam tank top, his turban shaking a little. "Han gets highlights and a pierced ear and suddenly, he's Mr. GQ cover model! But not the rest of us! Poor Lando looks like a homeless funk singer from the Disco era! Leia looks like some psychedelic showgirl from the mean streets of Mos Eisley!" he ranted, "And I look like a cross between a fortunetelling gymnast and a second-rate skater from the Ice Capades!" He gestured towards his image in the mirror. "And – oh, my gods! Am I wearing eyeliner?!" he gasped in horror, leaning forward to get a better look.

"Okay," Han said, turning from the mirror, "okay, let's just calm down. Uh, look, things got really out of control last night, okay? Stuff happened. Weird stuff (he eyed his brother-in-law.) We don't seem to remember any of it. So, this is what we're going to do. Leia, my love," he picked up a green braid from her shoulder and gave it a gentle little tug, "you go and make some kaff. I'll find some aspirin and wake Chewie. And Samuel L.," he turned to Lando, "you take Kenny G. over there and see if you have any clothes he can wear. Then we're gonna sit down and figure out what happened and how to fix it. Okay?"

"Fine," Lando grumbled with a frown, then added in a lower voice, gesturing with his chin toward Luke, "but he's so mean."

"I know, I know, but look at the poor kid," Han whispered back.

"What was that?!" Luke snapped suspiciously, patting his hair dry with the towel.

"Nothing," Han flashed a big, fake smile. "I'm sure we'll all feel better after a nice, hot cup of kaff."

Just as Luke was following Lando out the door, he turned suddenly, putting his hands on his hips, making the rhinestones on his spandex Shazam tank top sparkle in the glare of the bathroom light, and narrowed his eyes at his brother in law. "Just so you know, I was going to call you 'Point Break' in return for that 'Kenny G.' crack, but since it's actually a compliment, I'm not gonna!" Then he stuck out his tongue and flounced out of there, his curly hair bouncing on his head.

The Solos stood there, simply staring at the empty doorway Luke had vacated, neither quite capable of speech for a moment.

Finally: "Your brother's strange."

"Yeah."

Han looked down at his technicolor wife, who continued to stare straight ahead. "You do know you're the normal, good twin, right?"

"I do, now."

X X X

While Leia made kaff in the galley, and Lando took Luke to find some clothes, Han foraged in the other bathroom to find some aspirin, then he went to wake the sleeping Wookiee.

Leia had just pressed the 'On' button on the kaff maker when Han's voice bellowed down the hallway.

"Lando!" His tone made them all come running. He looked from the form on the bed to Lando, confused and alarmed. "Uh, do you, by any chance, know Dwayne Newson?"

"No," Lando answered, bewildered. "Why?"

" 'Cuz that ain't Chewie," he insisted, pointing at the bed, then lifting the covers.

They gaped at the bloated, sleeping form of Dwayne Newson, dressed in white leather and sparkles.

"Holy kriff," Luke breathed in awe, turning to his sister, "we partied with Dwayne Newson!"

"Yeah, but I can't wake him up," Han growled. "Are you wearing a cape? Never mind. We need to wake him up and find Chewie."

Lando leaned over the lounge singing legend. "Hey!" he shouted, despite his still-raging headache. "Mr. Newson! Dwayne! All-you-can-eat-buffet!" He shook his head. "He's really out cold. Oh, gods, he's dead!" he wailed, "Dwayne Newson is dead on my yacht!"

"He's not dead," Luke said, stepping forward, and putting a hand on the man's chest.

"Look, here's a note," Leia said, picking up a slip of paper from the bedside. She read, "'Dear Luke, if you forget how to wake Sleeping Beauty, ask Chewie. Love, Luke.'"

Luke frowned. "Sleeping Beauty? Hmm. I must've used a Jedi Mind Trick on him."

"Why didn't you write down how to wake him up?" Han griped, irritated, head still pounding.

"Gee, Han," Luke sneered, deliberately looking down at himself, gesturing at his outfit, "I don't remember."

"Yeah, sorry," Han relented. "Okay. Well, let's find Chewie then so we can wake up Mr. Entertainment."

They scoured the ship, but the Wookiee was nowhere to be found, and he wasn't answering his 'com. Han even went to check outside to see if he'd passed out somewhere around the ship, but all he found was Dwayne Newson's wrecked repulsor chair, which he dragged back inside with him. He joined the others in the lounge.

"Chewie's missing," Han said desperately, running a panicked hand through his gorgeous hair. His best friend was out there, alone in the city, maybe hurt, or even in jail. Or even worse. "If something happened to him . . ."

Leia put her arms around him. "Nothing bad happened to him. He's okay, I can feel that much. We'll find him," she soothed.

He hugged her and she felt him relax a little.

"Leia's right. I don't know where he is, but he feels safe, if that helps," Luke offered.

"Maybe Dwayne Newson knows," Lando mused. "We just have to figure out how to wake him up."

The gathered again around Dwayne's bedside.

"We could, um, try to . . . kiss him?" Luke suggested. "You know. Sleeping Beauty?" He thought he heard Leia mutter, ' _I knew it'_ , but he couldn't be sure.

"Worth a shot," Lando said. And they stood there looking at each other, until three pairs of eyes rested on Leia.

"Me?! Why me?!" she protested.

"You're a girl," Luke offered weakly.

"I'm not the one who wrote the note. It says Chewie knows."

"Yeah, Chewie might have been there when I did the mind trick."

"Maybe it's you!" she contended, poking a finger in his chest.

"Maybe," Luke squirmed, "but one of us has to try first." His eyes pleaded with her.

She folded her arms angrily. "Fine! I'll go first. But if it doesn't work, you're going to have to do it, too."

"Hey," Han protested, "I'm not so sure about this. I don't want my wife kissing another . . . that."

Lando chuckled. "Relax, pirate. It won't mean anything. It'll be like kissing her brother," he assured his friend in blissful ignorance.

Han, Leia, and Luke looked uncomfortably at each other, then Leia said, "Honey, it's just a peck on the lips. If it wakes him up, we can find Chewie and get him out of here." She looked him in the eyes (oh, his beautiful hazel eyes!) until his jaw relaxed and he nodded.

Holding her breath, Leia hesitated above the big man.

"It's okay, Leia," Luke assured her from beside her shoulder, "he's more plastic than man."

She quickly touched her lips to Dwayne Newson's, and . . . nothing happened.

"Kriff," Luke groaned as Leia moved aside. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. _So it's come down to this_. "I would prefer if you'd all turn away," he said plaintively. He heard Lando's soft, muffled snicker as he dropped a tiny kiss on the sleeping man.

Instead of waking, Dwayne Newson just lay there like a slug. "Son of a bitch," Luke muttered, turning to face the other three. "Who's next?"

"No way," Lando said flatly.

"I don't care if he ever wakes up. I ain't kissin' a dude," Han said definitively.

"Not even for Chewie?" Luke wheedled as he once had, long ago, on the first Death Star. Only then it had been for the sake of a princess . . .

Han frowned. "Fine. But we must never talk of this. Ever! And, Leia? I think you should leave the room."

She closed her eyes with that pained look again, then went to stand just outside the door, while muttering, "Oh, for Chachi's sake . . ."

"And don't stop loving me!" he called.

"Kriff, Han, you're not going to French him! Just do it!" she cried.

So he did it. And nothing happened.

"There's really no point in my kissing him, is there?" Lando smiled, inching toward the door, but Leia blocked him, shaking her head.

"For Chewie," Luke repeated.

Lando relented. "For the Wook." He hesitated above Dwayne's unnaturally plump lips. "I don't think I can do it."

"It, uh, doesn't really count," Han stammered, "because you're mustache is missing."

Lando raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Han shrugged, "I don't know. I'm just trying to help."

"Okay. Here goes." His kiss also yielded no results.

The young Jedi Master thought for a moment. "Maybe it's something else. Maybe a word?" He looked down at Dwayne and shouted, "Shazam!" Nothing.

"May the Force be with you!" Nothing.

"Wake up." Nothing.

"Mas Regas." Nothing.

"Wes Jansen." Nothing.

"Sleeping Beauty." Nothing.

He shrugged at the others before trying one more time.

"Fat ass?" Nothing.

Then they all tried certain words and phrases, and even broke into a chorus of Super Freak before finally giving up.

"All right," Leia said, "why don't we go to the galley, grab some kaff, and come up with a plan, okay?"

They passed around the bottle of aspirin, sipped kaff, and ate toasted bagels and cream cheese at the small table in the galley.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Han asked.

"I remember we went to Teaser's Palace," Luke said.

"I remember that, too," Leia agreed, "and you and Lando were playing sabaac. I think you were winning."

"I remember the sabaac," Lando nodded, sipping kaff, "and I wasn't do so well, I think."

"Yeah, that's what I remember, too," Han sighed. "And after that, nothing, until I heard you screaming this morning."

"Well, obviously, somebody slipped us something, because this amnesia isn't just from drinking too much," Lando concluded. "And maybe we got a room at Teaser's. Maybe that's where Chewie is right now."

"Maybe, but if Luke mentioned him in that love note to himself," Leia said, shooting her brother another pained look, "does that mean Chewie was here with us and Dwayne Newson?"

"Not necessarily," Luke said. "I could have done the mind trick anywhere and we could have brought Big Boy here on that repulsor chair." He shrugged. "Or maybe there were other people here, too, and Chewie left with them."

"Or they took him," Han sighed, tossing his half-eaten bagel onto his plate.

Leia reached over and stroked his arm. "Honey, I don't think he's in any danger. Maybe he's still sleeping and when he wakes up, he'll contact us."

"Yeah, but maybe he's confused. Maybe he can't remember and he's helpless," Han persisted.

"Which is why we're going to find him," she promised. "We just need to retrace our night."

Han thought for a moment. "Okay, everybody check your pockets. Maybe there's some receipts or something, some clues."

Lando pulled out several ATM receipts and a bunch of loose cash. "Kriff, I'm out eight thousand credits!"

"I have a voucher from the casino," Han announced. "It says I won . . . a hundred thousand credits!" He and Leia whooped.

"Of course you did." Luke sipped his kaff sullenly. He had no pockets to search through, and it made him begin to wonder how long he'd been wandering around the city dressed like this, and had he been carrying around that creepy puppet all night long? He cringed at the thought.

In her purse, Leia found ticket stubs to the Dwayne Newson show, drink vouchers from Teaser's Palace and in one of the pockets on her jean jacket, she found a tooth.

"What the hell are you doing with a tooth?" Han said, instinctively poking a tongue around his mouth, like the rest of them, to feel for gaps. But it wasn't one of theirs.

"I don't know," she said in wonder, as if something was just on the edge of her memory that she couldn't quite grasp.

"Wish I had a tooth in my jacket. Wish I had cash vouchers in my pockets," Luke muttered across the table, pouting again.

Han turned to him. _Poor kid, imagine waking up dressed like that._ "Are you kidding? You have something better than vouchers or teeth in your pockets." He smiled and nodded encouragingly at Luke, who gave him a hesitant, distrusting frown and pushed his chair a little further from Han. "If you're coming on to me . . ."

As Lando began to snicker, Leia bit her lip, then said to Han, "Honey, you just-"

"I mean," Han said, glaring at them indignantly, "that wooden dummy."

"Is that what you call it?" Luke frowned. "Boy, it's always the pretty ones . . ."

"I'm talking about the ventriloquist's puppet!" Han shouted. "It belongs to someone, maybe in a show! Maybe they can tell us something! Sheesh!"

"You want us to bring that thing onto the Strip?" Luke moaned.

"Yeah," Han said, "we can put it in a satchel or something. I'm sure Lando has something around here."

"No, he doesn't," Luke glared now at Lando. "All his stuff is back in his room at the Capitol Hitz-Rilton. Except for about fifty capes, for the love of Chachi."

Lando held up his hands defensively. "I like having room service and having somebody else make my bed."

Leia stared uncomfortably at her brother. "So, you have no other clothing to wear . . . out there . . .?"

He shook his head, and she hastily added, "Well, I'll be walking around like this, so . . ."

"Maybe we can wrap the dummy in a cape, like Luke here, and, you know, carry it around like a child or something," Han offered.

"At least with Leia carrying it around, it won't look so suspicious," Luke shrugged.

"Wait a minute!" Leia snapped, "why should I carry it around?! It's your dummy!"

"Well . . . you're a –" Luke began to say.

Leia pointed a finger at him and squinted her eyes. "You better be very careful about what comes out of your mouth next, Luke Aloysius Skywalker! Because, so help me, if you say 'you're a girl,' I'm gonna slap the curls right off your head!"

"Okay, okay," Luke backtracked, "we'll draw straws."

"Oh, no, that's not how it works," Lando smirked, tucking stray curls behind an ear.

"Yeah, Junior," Han chuckled, "the rule goes, 'You sleep with it, you return it home.'"

Leia slowly turned her head and raised an eyebrow at him, making him squirm. "Or so I've heard." He swallowed nervously, and added, "Uh, from Lando." He offered Leia a helpless little shrug, making her roll her eyes again and murmur under her breath, "Nerfherder. If you weren't so beautiful, I swear . . ."

Finally, Lando stood and put his hands on the table. "Okay, enough of this. I think it's time for us to go and find Chewie. Come on."

Ten minutes later, the odd group of four (five if you counted the puppet Luke carried, now wrapped like an unusually large baby in one of Lando's many capes) made their way to the shuttle station which would take them from one of Regas' many public hangers, straight to the heart of Sin Sector Central itself.

 _I know you're out there somewhere, Chewie_ , Han thought, _and we're comin' to find you!_


	4. Chapter 4

If Luke was apprehensive about walking around in public dressed in a black, spandex leotard emblazoned with Shazam written in sparkly rhinestones, complete with a cape lined in red satin, sporting a curly perm and eyeliner, while carrying a ventriloquist's dummy wrapped up in a pink paisley cape as if it were a child, he quickly learned he really needn't have worried at all. As he, Leia, Han, and Lando waited on the pavilion for the shuttle train to carry them to the Mas Regas strip, he spied beings of assorted species milling about in various costumes, perhaps coming from or going to work, and some in states of disheveled dress, perhaps nursing hangovers and doing the dreaded 'walk of shame.' No one made eye contact or even noticed the four of them, and he relaxed a little as the train pulled in.

He scooched into one of the two-seat benches and took the seat closest to the window while Leia settled next to him, and Han and Lando stood sentry beside them, holding onto the handgrips for support. _Not crowded like last night_ , he mused, vaguely remembering the ride and the feeling of beings crushed into every side of him. Luke shifted the dummy on his lap, wondering absently why Lando even owned a pink paisley cape at all. Was he a secret toro-fighter? Did he have a matching pink outfit and, if so, on what occasion would he possibly wear it? Or did it belong to a lady-friend? Knowing Lando, those were all good, reasonable answers. He smiled to himself as the train bustled and jostled along, and turned to look out the window at the rushing pavement and tracks. The glass reflected his own image and he frowned, wondering at the chasm between the young, naïve farmboy turned Jedi who had faced down both the Emperor and Darth Vader and saved countless lives, and the image in the shuttle window: _I look like a gay vampire magician! All I need is a top hat and a wand!_ His reverie was broken by Leia suddenly springing from her seat beside him and he looked over at her, startled.

"Hey!" Leia snarled, inserting her tiny, colorful form between Han and a pretty, young woman, dressed tastefully in one of the hotel's uniforms. "What do you think you're doing?!" She glared at the woman, narrowing her eyes dangerously.

The woman looked down at Leia with surprise and amusement, taking in the colorful braids and harsh make-up, and tried to catch Han's eye, as if to say, _Do you believe this?_ But he was having none of it and chose to look down at the angry, little princess, a corner of his mouth beginning to rise.

"What is this?" the woman laughed, her tone matching her expression. "Who _are_ you?" Behind her, a couple of her friends, dressed in the same uniform, began to snicker. "Are you, like, his pimp, or something?"

"No, sweetie," Leia said, folding her arms in front of her and leaning her back against Han. "I'm his wife." She watched with satisfaction as her words sank in and the woman backed up towards her friends. They gasped with disbelieving, derisive laughter. (Han wrapped an arm around his wife's stomach, pulled her close, and gave the three women a wide, Cheshire grin above her head.) In her career as an Alderaanian senator, as a rebel soldier/leader, and member of the current government, she had dealt with much worse than these three and she almost felt sorry for them. Almost, for right now, dressed as something similar to Skanki from Jerky Shore, she wasn't Princess Leia of Alderaan serving as Ambassador for the New Republic anymore. The name Foxy Lady Marmalade swam up into her mind, and, in a small flash of memory, she was suddenly aware she'd called herself that last night. Drawing on the power of her new persona, Leia affected a street-tough confidence and smirked. "The three of you have been staring at my man since we got on the shuttle, and there's nothing wrong with that; he's a fi-i-ine looking man. But then _you_ (she pointed a finger at the offender) purposely came over here to stand next to him for no other reason than to giggle and flirt with him. Like I said, there's nothing wrong with that, because he's a fi-i-ine looking man. But when he didn't respond, you bumped against him three times and you put your hands on him. On purpose." Here she raised a sharply defined eyebrow. "You put. Your stanky hands. On my man. On purpose. Not once, but three times." She shook her head, her braids rustling around her. "And now we have a problem because I wonder what I'm gonna do about it. Tell me, what should I do about it?" Her raspy voice and steely, unwavering gaze silenced the three women, causing them to scamper toward the sliding doors.

The shuttle jostled to a stop just then and the doors parted. While the three stumbled out and other passengers pushed their way in, Foxy Lady Marmalade called out, "Yeah, you better run or I'll punch you in the vagina and kick your ass, bitch!"

Han snorted laughter into her hair, holding back the ball of fire that was his wife, as she flailed half-heartedly against his restraining arm. After a moment, she joined him. "That was fun," she giggled, trying to catch her breath and turning in his arms.

"I thought you were really going to kick her ass," Lando whooped, trying to reign in his laughter. He wiped at his eyes, lifting the pair of sunglasses he'd donned before they left the yacht.

"She _so_ could," Han boasted, beaming down at her. "That's my woman. Isn't she's the coolest?" Leia flushed, and beamed back at him.

Luke grinned at them and remembered the time, it seemed ages ago, when Han had asked, "You think a princess and a guy like me . . . ?" He had known the pirate had been baiting him, but he'd still been quick to answer, "No!" because, even then, even though he hadn't even known much more than their names (and he certainly hadn't known the beautiful princess on whom he'd begun to harbor an unrequited crush, was his twin sister,) he absolutely _could_ imagine a princess and a guy like Han. Maybe it was destiny, or the Force, or something more, some indescribable moment when two soulmates meet, but he'd known, just as they had, even back then. And now, after all the fighting and denying, after all the obstacles they'd created and overcome, here they were on a train, totally enraptured with each other, and it was glorious to witness. It made the young Jedi wonder if that would ever happen to him, if he'd ever meet someone and feel that way about her. He thought about the women he'd known (despite Leia's teasing about Rogue Squadron) - Gaeriel and Jem and Callista and Akanah. He'd loved them, he supposed, but he'd never felt about them the way Han and Leia felt about each other. Luke sighed. Maybe she was out there somewhere, right now, just waiting for him . . .

"Shazam!" a little voice said close to his ear and something poked him sharply in the chest.

"Hey!" Luke frowned. He'd been so distracted by Leia's commotion and his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed that someone else had sat down next to him when the shuttle started up again. Make that two someones. A woman in a nurse's uniform sat contentedly with her eyes focused on a reading devise. On her lap sat the source of the voice and the jab of pain: a little boy of perhaps four or five with dark hair, large blue eyes, and a face full of freckles, who stared back at Luke with an unabashed expression of brattiness.

"Shazam!" the boy said, and poked him again on one of the rhinestones. Before Luke could react, he did it again. "Shazam! Shazam! Shazam!" Poke, poke, poke.

"Ow! Cut it out, kid," Luke protested, rubbing at his chest.

"Knock it off, Ollie," the mother said in a tired monotone, never taking her eyes off her tablet.

Undeterred, Ollie made a face. ""Cut it out,'" he mimicked, "Wah! I'm a baby! I wear a cape! Wah!'"

Luke shook his head. "That's not very nice."

"'That's not very nice,'" Ollie sang back snottily. "Why are you dressed like that? Why does it say 'Shazam' on your shirt? That's dumb. You look dumb."

"I'm . . . a magician," Luke said hesitantly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lando biting his lips, trying not to laugh. Before they had left the yacht, Lando had stuffed his jheri-curls under a wool cap and had laughed hysterically at Luke's attempts to disguise himself. First, Luke had tried to hide his perm by wrapping a scarf around his head, but he looked, in Lando's words, like 'a ballet dancer with a head injury' and when he'd tried on the sunglasses, Lando had declared him to be 'a blind guy who had obviously dressed himself and didn't know he what he was wearing.' Then Lando had decided not to wear his signature cape, saying that one person wearing a cape was okay, but two people wearing capes was 'too capey' and that they looked like 'a poor man's version of Zigfeld and Troy.' Luke's nostrils flared at the memory. "I'm, uh, The Amazing . . . Jeff."

"That's dumb," Ollie said. "Magicians are dumb. Shazam! Shazam! Shazam!" His little finger found its mark every time.

"Ollie, stop that," his mom said again without looking up. "Leave that nice man alone."

Ollie ignored her. "Is that your kid? Why is he wrapped up like that? That looks dumb."

"He's, uh, not feeling well," Luke answered, shifting the doll closer to the window and away from Ollie.

"What happened to him? Why's he sick? He looks dead."

"Look, kid, he's fine. He's not dead," Luke scowled at the cherubic face. _Geez, the Emperor wasn't even this bad_ , he thought, and watched as Lando tucked his head down, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"What's his name? Huh? What's your kid's name? I bet it's something dumb." At this, Lando coughed laughter into his hand (Han and Leia were still in each other's arms, engrossed in an intimate, whispered conversation and totally oblivious to everything around them.)

"Uh, his name is, uh," Luke sputtered helplessly, then looked over the kid's head. ". . . Lando. His name is Lando." Instantly, a pair of brown eyes glared at him over a pair of sunglasses. Luke returned the look with a slow, wicked smile.

"Lando?! What kind of name is that?! That's so dumb! That's the dumbest name I ever heard! Who names a kid Lando? Lando's dumb!" Ollie ranted, smacking his little forehead with his little hand at the obvious stupidity of it all.

"Ollie!" his mother said, finally closing off her reading tablet. "Hey! Enough. Look, here, go sit up here and play. We'll be at our stop in a minute." She pulled a couple of action figures out of her pocket and handed them to Ollie, who jumped off her lap and hopped into the empty half of the seat in front of her.

The woman turned to regard Luke. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized, "Ollie can be . . . a handful."

"Oh, no, that's okay. He's, uh, quite a scamp," he allowed with a smile, noting the beautiful blue eyes and hair the color of golden wheat.

"I'm Darcy. Hi," she smiled, offering her hand. "You're, uh, Jeff, is it? You must be on your way to work, too. I'm a nurse. I have to drop Ollie off at his sitter's and he isn't very happy about that, it being the weekend and all. I usually don't work weekends." Darcy fidgeted a little and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In front of them, Ollie's voice was faint as he played with his toys. ("'I'm The Amazing Jeff! I'm dumb!' 'Well, my name's Lando! I'm dumber!' 'Oh, yeah? I'm a magician! I'll make you disappear!' 'You should make your hair disappear! It's dumb!'")

"Oh, yeah. I'm Jeff. I, I have . . . an act," Luke stammered. Could this beautiful woman be flirting with him? Seriously? Even dressed in a uni-tard and the crazy perm? "Hi." Luke felt his cheeks warm.

"Where's your show?"

"It's, uh, well, I'm, uh, auditioning," he said. Over her head, he saw Lando nod and give him a thumb's up.

"Oh. That's great. Good." There was a brief awkward pause. ("'Shazam! Take that, Lando!' 'You're no match for me, The Amazing Jeff!' 'Oh, yeah?' 'Yeah!' 'You're dumb!' 'No, you're dumb!')

Luke struggled for something to say. "I borrowed the cape. You think it's too much?"

Darcy smiled. "No, no, I think it's great. What's a magician without a cape? I mean, gosh, why else would you wear it?" she laughed.

"Why else, indeed," Luke chuckled, grinning broadly, shooting Lando a look. Ollie made little sounds with his mouth, as his plastic action figures had progressed from verbal assault to a physical fight. Luke began to envision an apartment next to Han and Leia's, coming through the door to be attacked by a troop of sandy-haired children (Ollie having been sent off planet to a private school), their own housekeeping droid greeting them with pre-dinner cocktails and a pot roast in the oven, Friday evening drinks with the Solos and an occasional night out with the Rogues. Ahhh . . .

"So, is that your son?" Darcy asked, gesturing to the bundle on Luke's lap.

"Oh. Yes. Taking him to his, uh, mother's. We're, uh, we're not together." He saw Lando roll his eyes and mouth the word 'Smooth.'

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but is he okay? He hasn't moved at all and . . ."

"No, no," Luke insisted, trying to tuck the dummy closer to the window, "he's fine, really. Just recovering from the flu. Really." He looked around desperately at Lando, but he was frowning down at Ollie ("'You're a dumb Butt-face, Lando!' 'Well, you're a stupid Fart-head, The Amazing Jeff!'".) He could see Han and Leia would be of no help, as they were too busy giggling and groping each other to notice.

"I'm a nurse. I could take a look to make sure he's okay," Darcy offered, reaching over for the pink blanket.

"I, uh, don't think that's a good idea," Luke muttered just as the train began to slow down and announce their stop.

"Really," Darcy insisted, "I don't mind. The flu can be tricky. Here, let me . . ."

"I don't . . ." Luke began as Darcy pulled at the cape. Just as her hand found the edge, Luke did the only thing he could think of: he used the Force. Under the cape, the puppet moved its head and shifted itself a bit. "There. See? He's fine."

"Well, he probably needs some air," she said, yanking the seam of the blanket back.

The train came to a stop, and for perhaps three seconds, time stood still as Darcy stared silently at the uncovered bundle in Luke's lap. She blinked, uncomprehending at first, her eyes and brain trying to process what it was seeing: a wooden dummy with a shock of white hair on top of a rather pointy head, with boozy, half-lidded, crossed, red eyes and a wide, gaping mouth. Luke winced, bracing himself.

Then the shrieking started.

Darcy jumped out of her seat and backed up into out-going passengers, most of whom watched with mild interest. "That's a . . . a . . . that's a dummy!" she yelled in surprise. This was enough to get the attention Han and Leia, as well as little Ollie. His little dark head popped up over the seat. "Wow!" he laughed.

"Darcy, I can explain," Luke said, pulling the cape back over the doll. "I know this looks weird, but-"

"But you said, you said it was your son," she stammered in confusion, pulling Ollie from his seat and attempting to push him behind her legs. "And you were taking him to his mother's!"

"Yes, well -"

"Jeff? You okay, buddy?" Lando asked in a tone one usually reserves for children or the feeble minded. A slow, devilish grin spread over his face that only Luke could see.

Luke narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth. "Yes, Lando. I'm fine," he said tightly.

Darcy's eyes darted wildly between Luke and Lando. "But, he said _that's_ Lando (she pointed at the puppet.) He said he's a magician and that's his son."

"Yes," Lando answered patiently, then turned to Darcy and whispered loudly, "Jeff thinks he's a magician. He likes to carry the doll around and pretend." He turned back to Luke and said in an overly slow and loud voice, "Don't you, Jeff? Are you ready to go back to the home now?"

Luke pouted fiercely, murder in his eyes.

"Lando, what's going on?" Leia asked, taking in the scene. She could pretty much guess, and she could hear Han begin to snicker behind her.

"That's his sister," Lando whispered loudly to Darcy, pointing at the little woman with the brightly colored braids and showgirl makeup.

"Oh, my," Darcy stuttered, shuffling further toward the open doorway, making sure to keep Ollie safely behind her. ("This is awesome!" he giggled.) "Your hair, it's, uh, colorful." As a nurse, she had taken care such people and she knew it was best not to upset them. She nodded at Lando. "I, uh, understand. I, oh, my, your mustache . . . it's . . . not . . . real. Okay."

Smiling nervously, never taking her eyes off Lando, she fumbled for Ollie's hand and dropped her purse. Han bent over to pick it up.

He gave her a particularly dashing smile, held out her purse, and said, "Hi. I'm Han Solo and that's my wife, Princess Leia."

Darcy calmly took her purse, finally getting herself under control. "Yes, sweetie. Of course you are. And that's her brother, Luke Skywalker, and that's General Lando Calrissian, I suppose" she agreed, making sure to smile widely. "Well, it was so nice to meet all of you," she said, continuing to back out of the shuttle. "We have to be going. Do you need me to call anybody? Does somebody need to come and get you back to the . . . home?"

Han put an arm around Leia as the four of them began to disembark as well. "Nah. We're fine. Dwayne Newson passed out on our ship and seems to be under some kind of sleeping spell. We all tried kissing him, but that didn't work, so we have to find our Wookiee friend, Chewbacca, to help wake him up."

"Well, bless your heart, of course you do," Darcy said in an overly-bright voice, glad to be off the shuttle and on the pavilion with lots of people and an escape route. ("That's so cool!" Ollie cried somewhere around her knees.) "You all just . . . be safe. Bye, now. Bye. Say 'bye,' Ollie," she said, beginning to pull Ollie in a half-run, half-walk.

"Bye, The Amazing Jeff! Bye, Lando!" Ollie managed to shout half way across the platform.

The four of them began to walk up the steps to the front of Teaser's Palace, sharing a good laugh, with the exception of Luke, who sulked between Han and Lando.

Han clapped a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Too bad, junior. Really thought you had a shot there."

Luke shrugged. "I did until Lando opened his big mouth," he turned to glare at the still-somehow-suave-despite-the-drawn-on-mustache man next to him and glared.

"It was never going to work out, Luke," Leia offered before Luke could say more.

"How do you know?" he said plaintively, "I was gonna tell her the puppet was part of the act."

"I know because I'm a girl," Leia smiled, teasing. "Besides, you lied, and you lost any chance with her once she saw that puppet in the blanket. There's no coming back from that."

Luke shrugged, all thoughts of him and Darcy wearing matching Winter Fete hats on holiday cards, or frolicking on one of the famous beaches of the planet Cocopple set to a music montage, slowly dissolving away like an antacid tablet on the tongue. "I guess," he grumbled.

"I think," Lando said as they entered the hotel, "we should look around a little bit and see if anything rings a bell. We'll ask the staff if they remember us from last night, and maybe they can show us the security tapes, too."

The lobby of the casino hotel was enormous and decorated in blonde marble and crystal chandeliers, with hundreds of velvet chairs and couches, fresh-cut, exotic flowers in expensive vases, and banks of slot machines lining the walls. Luke remembered goggling at it last night and began to feel a little better as they meandered about, trying to gather as much information as they could from last night's escapades. Lando saunter over to the front desk and began to chat up a pretty pink-skinned Cortesh humanoid female clerk while Han and Leia settled by one of the slot machines next to the entrance of the cavernous gaming floor. Luke quirked his lips and remembered a beautiful, pale blue Twi'lek serving girl in a revealing uniform roaming around the lobby with a tray of complimentary drinks, handing them out to guests. He'd taken one and she'd winked at him before moving along.

 _Maybe Leia's right_ , he mused, _it would never have worked out with Darcy. First of all, I was riding a shuttle dressed in this get-up because I was so hungover, I can't even remember last night, then I lied to her about my name and this stupid puppet I'm lugging around, then there was that look on her face when she pulled back the cape. Not to mention that annoying kid with that pokey little hand! I really dodged a bullet with that one!_ Luke began to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the expression of utter, wordless, bewilderment Darcy wore when she'd come face to face with the puppet. _No,_ he thought, _it was pretty much over right there. Well, it's best to keep this little misadventure to ourselves. Thank the stars that the Rogues are on routine patrol this weekend so I don't run into anybody I know! I'd rather not be seen or remembered like this anyway; I'd never live it down! Whew!_ He sighed with relief, still chuckling, and took two steps toward his friends, when he heard:

"Skywalker, is that you?!"

Luke froze mid-stride. He knew that voice . . . as if he could forget. Somewhere on his right side, a short distance away, walking toward him was none other than -

Mara Jade.

He closed his eyes with that pained look Leia had perfected. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind in a couple of seconds: _just pretend you're somebody else – 'I'm sorry, miss, you must be mistaken. Who's Luke? My name's Jeff'; tell her the whole Jedi thing isn't working out and you're trying out a new career; I have a head injury (Lando's suggestion) and I don't know what's going on or who I am; bachelor party gone wrong (or extremely right); It's a Jedi test I found in some of Yoda's old data chips; I'm in disguise and on a secret mission for the government; Luke's been cloned and is being held hostage by an evil, secret sith-lord – send help!_ He opened his eyes, hoping he was hallucinating. But he wasn't, because now Mara was standing in front of him, wearing a patterned green and white, casual, sleeveless dress and an amused look on her face that said, 'I don't believe what I'm seeing, but somehow I'm not really surprised.'

"Uh, Mara," Luke stammered, "hey. What, um, what are you doing here?" It was hard to sound nonchalant, dressed as he was, but he did his best. He adjusted the doll on his hip and tried to smile at her, as if this was the most normal thing in the universe.

"Well," she began, her emerald green eyes, travelling slowly up his spandexed body and cape, to the rhinestones, then flicking over to the bundle in his arms. "I'm on a mission. I just met my contact." She paused for an uncomfortable, confused moment. "I'd, uh, ask you the same, but I'm not sure I really want to know."

Luke felt his face heat up. "Okay, see . . . uh, it's . . . well, I can't . . . the truth is . . ." he sputtered, wishing he could disappear like Obi-Wan. Well, not _just_ like Obi-Wan with the whole dead/Force ghost thing, but still. Why did she have to look so gorgeous? And like she was ready to bust out laughing? It just wasn't fair. Waking up with his head resting on Wes Jansen's naked chest and seeing Wedge's mortified face peeking into the small cockpit window was one thing. But this – having Mara Jade see him dressed as some kind of half-assed, magic swami was quite another. "It's not what it looks like," he protested.

Mara raised her eyebrows, taking in the perm. "No?"

"See, there were these hoodlums, and they forced us–"

"Because it looks like you and your friends came to Regas to have some fun and somebody must've roofied you guys. You all must've done some crazy stuff last night that you can't remember, and now you're trying to retrace your steps to figure it all out." She folded her arms, nodding slightly toward Lando, Han, and Leia, and smirked smugly at him.

Mouth still open, Luke stared at her in wonder for a speechless moment. "Oh. Well, then it's exactly what it looks like," he said simply, then smiled sheepishly.

The redhead laughed and shook her head. "You're too cute, Skywalker. 'Hoodlums!'" He chortled with her, feeling the hot flush of his face cool down.

Just then, a nicely dressed, handsome man of perhaps Luke's age, appeared at Mara's side and took her elbow. He gave Luke a quick look and turned to Mara. "You ready to go, Sara?"

She nodded, eyes still on Luke. "See you around, Farmboy."

Luke watched as they walked out the lobby to a waiting hover car and were gone.

"Ah, the lovely Mara Jade," Lando said wistfully, suddenly right beside him, watching as the car hovered off. He clapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Just then, bells and whistles and lights went off by the slot machine Han was standing next to. He and Leia shouted and cheered as a worker came by to congratulate Han and hand him a credit voucher.

Lando and Luke shared a look as the two gleefully bounded over to join them.

"Can you believe it?!" Leia laughed. "Han put two quarters in the machine, and boom! He won five thousand credits!" The group began to make their way to the front desk.

"Of course he did," Luke groaned. "Han wins five thousand more credits, and what happens to me? I meet a beautiful woman on a train who thinks I'm a psych patient in group home, and then I turn around and there's Mara Jade. What's next? Who am I going to run into next? My prom date from Jundland Academy? Maybe there's a convention in town for Command officers of the Rebellion? Or maybe there'll be some kind of sting operation and the feds will flood in here, lasers drawn, camera's rolling, and we'll be caught in the middle of it and my picture will be all over the media outlets with me dressed like this! I can see the holo they'll have on the news – me with this perm and eyeliner, and just enough of my shirt so you can read 'Shazam', with the caption underneath, 'What has become of Luke Skywalker and should we be worried?'!"

Han, Leia, and Lando broke out laughing at Luke's whining rant. Han was right: Luke was a lot of fun when they went out and now the kid was on a roll.

Finally, Leia was able to say, "You went to the prom?" which broke them all up again.

Luke stopped and turned to them, putting his hands on his hips indignantly (as much as he could anyway) and said, "Fixer set me up with his sister. She was . . . she had a great personality, okay? It was either that or go with our old hydroponic gardening droid, K8-E, and she was on the fritz."

When they'd gotten themselves under control (Lando had to sit down for a moment), Han stepped over to his brother-in-law. "Okay, junior," he said, sniffling back some residual laughter and steering them back toward the front counter, "look, even dressed like . . . this, you got a beautiful woman to flirt with you on the train, so that's something, right?"

"Yeah," Luke admitted, shrugging.

"And Mara Jade did call you 'Farmboy'," Lando reminded him.

"She said I was cute, too," Luke nodded, standing a little taller now.

"That's two beautiful women who singled you out and flirted with you," Leia concluded. "Even with you dressed like . . . this."

"Yeah," Luke marveled. "They did, didn't they? And that guy with Mara – you think was he a contact?"

"Well, she used a fake name, so I'd say it was part of her mission," Lando assured him.

Luke began to smile again. "Good."

"Luke?" Leia asked, brows knit. "I gotta ask: You _were_ kidding about that hydroponic gardening droid, right?" She had a vision (not a Force-vision) of K8-E dressed in Aunt Beru's old clothes and holding hands with her brother as they walked in the twin sunsets of a Tatooine evening, while Uncle Owen looked on in tired despair.

He looked down at his sister, pausing a second too long (in Leia's opinion) and said, "Of course. Kidding. Hah! Imagine taking a droid to a prom or a county fair or something. That'd be, like, weird."

Before Leia could ask more, they had reached the front desk and were greeted by the Cortesh clerk.

"We didn't rent a room, but Branna, here, said we could look at last night's security tapes," Lando drawled charmingly.

She batted her long purple eyelashes at the handsome man. "This kind of stuff happens all the time."

She led them to a small conference room down the hall where they each took a seat while she turned on the monitor set into the wall and flipped through some media channels. (" . . .has been reported stolen.' '. . . singer hasn't been seen since last night . . .' '. . .started a riot in the club . . .' '. . .impersonator and possibly a confused, amateur street performer . . .' '. . . Troy's tiger is on the loose . . .') until she reached the security channel and punched in the approximate time of their arrival.

"Look! There we are!" Leia exclaimed, watching as the five of them entered the gaming floor.

"Okay, good, there's Ch-ookiee," Han said, catching himself. No need to use their real names unless they had to.

Branna fast forwarded through about an hour of footage of Han and Lando at a Sabaac table with Leia and Luke sipping drinks in the seats behind them. And that's when two women appeared and joined them on the tape.

"Stop!" Lando called. "I remember losing at the table and then those girls came over."

"I remember Han was winning," Leia offered, studying the frozen image.

"We were having a good time, then . . . nothing. It just cuts off," Han mused.

"Hmm," Branna said, starting the tape again. "I know those girls. They don't work here, but they come in all the time, if you know what I mean. They're names are Sharla and Mandi. What happens sometimes, is, well, you were winning. The Pit Boss paid them to come over and distract you guys."

"You mean to spike our drinks?" Luke asked, shocked.

"No, just to break your concentration, maybe even take you somewhere else. But, look, here. Sharla brought you all drinks. That's when it happened." She sounded apologetic and again fast-forwarded the tape to show them engaging with the girls, laughing, and then leaving with them.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything else about those two, would you?" Han asked, holding out a twenty dollar credit to Branna.

She blushed a lovely shade of blue and took the credit. "Well, they hang out a dance club called **Groove Thing** , and, Mandi works as a hairdresser at **In the Cut**. Judging by your, uh, hairdos, I'd try there first."

**********************12345

 **In the Cut** was located down at the end of the main strip behind a couple of run down burlesque and variety shows.

"Oh, my gods, you guys!" a cheerful young woman in an orange pixie cut and zebar print leggings screeched, running forward to greet them. "It's so great to see you again! Look at you!" She hugged Leia enthusiastically. "You guys are so crazy! Oh, my gods!" She giggled and chattered a mile a minute, pouring them coffee and urging them to sit for a minute in the back of the shop. The vid-monitor was on low, showing snippets of the missing tiger from Zigfeld and Troy's show.

"So, Mandi, is it?" Lando asked.

"You know my name, James," Mandi giggled, "why are you all being so quiet? You were all so wild last night!"

"We don't really remember much of last night," he explained, recongnizing that he'd used the moniker 'James' from those spy movies. "We think your friend, Sharla, might have roofied us."

"Oh! Oh, no!" Mandi cried. "Kriff, I keep telling her not to do that! Aww, I'm sorry. Some of those memories will come back, but are you guys all okay?"

They exchanged looks, then Han said, "Well, aside from monster hangovers, amnesia, and some funky hairstyles, we're okay, but we don't know where our friend the Wookiee is. You don't know anything about that do you?"

"Oh, the Wook! What a sweetie! Yeah, he was here. He even held James down when we shaved off that mustache. What a shame, too, cuz you looked sooo damn sexy with it! But a bet's a bet, right Dick?" she squeaked, looking at Han.

"A bet?" Han asked. And why was she calling him Dick?

"Yeah, you guys cut some cards at Teaser's and James lost the bet, so he had to shave off his mustache."

Across from Han, Luke began to snicker and mutter, "Dick. That's classic." He vaguely remembered Han had introduced himself as Richard, after some guy in one of Leia's favorite movies. ("But you can call him Dick for short!" Luke remembered wisecracking.) And Han must've remembered it just then, too, because Luke met his brother-in-law's narrowed eyes over the edge of the Styrofoam coffee cup.

"Yeah," Mandi continued, "then Sharla said Sandy looked like that guy in that old tv show, **The Greatest Tarmarian Hero** , and you made us give you a perm. Kept calling yourself Super Flyswatter and insisted you could jump really, really high and knew kara-tay. You were so funny, Sandy! That your kid?"

 _Sandy, because I'm from Tatooine_ , Luke thought. "Yeah, my kid. Picked him up from his mom's this morning."

"And you, you wild woman, Foxy," Mandi giggled at Leia, "you wanted rainbow braids like Fana – she was here last night, too, one of my girls. She's the one who did your makeup. Then James started singing 'Three Times a Lady' by that Lionel guy. Dick and Sandy said you'd look great with a jheri curl perm and you insisted."

"Oh, they did, did they?" Lando fumed while Luke and Han snickered at each other, remembering.

"So, um, I really like Foxy's hair," Han grinned, turning his attention to his wife giving her a wink.

"Oh, you did!" Mandi trilled. "You were so adorable, said how crazy you are about her, how she's the most beautiful woman in the universe. It was so sweet, it really was. And Foxy says, 'Let's get married here in Regas tonight!' She said we could only trim and highlight your hair cuz you're too gorgeous for a perm, and said that she'd been nuts about you the minute she saw you and she wished you guys had eloped the first time you got married." Here, Mandi took a moment to sip her coffee and wet her throat.

"Is that what we did then? Did we go get married?" Leia asked, blowing on her coffee, returning Han's grin. She wished she could remember that. Marrying Han was the best thing she'd ever done, and marrying him again, like this, would just make it even better.

"No, not yet anyway. You guys and us girls still wanted to party, so we went a couple of doors down to **Groove Thing** to dance. Besides, James still had to pay off the rest of his bet."

"What do you mean I still had to pay off the rest of my bet?" Lando asked slowly, dread rising in his gut. A memory began to surface, something hazy, but he was unwilling to let it form. Because it was too awful to think it could be true.

Mandi bit her violet colored lip. "Geez, you really don't remember? Oh, you poor thing. Come on. Let's go. It's just down the street, only be careful, cuz there's a tiger on the loose."

************************12345

 **Groove Thing** dance club was, like **In the Cut** , a dive, decorated with lots of bright, flashing lights and velvet ropes. But that didn't mean it wasn't a happening place. Except now, at this hour, it was deserted. Inside it was dark and dank and smelled of beer, wine, and cheap perfume.

"Hey, Mave," Mandi greeted a pudgy older woman behind the bar. Around them, a few men were cleaning up the main floor of broken glasses and chairs.

"Hey, girl," Mave said, putting away just-washed glasses. "Quite a night last night, aye? We haven't had a bust-up like that in a while. That little rainbow girl was one tough hooch! I never seen anyone take down Big Sal! Ooh, the Red Hot Mamas are going to be hurting today, let me tell you."

Luke had gone ahead to survey the dance floor, and Lando leaned against the bar, head in hand, trying to unremember what had gone down. Han and Leia were lingering in the short hallway behind Mandi, and now he squeezed her hand. "One tough hooch, huh? And you took down Big Sal? I'm impressed, Foxy," he grinned in admiration. She laughed.

"Yeah, well," Mandi, shrugged, moving aside to reveal the four of them

"It's you! Foxy Lady Marmalade!" Mave exclaimed excitedly.

Leia moved forward a bit sheepishly. "I caused this? Me? Sorry about the mess," she began. _What the kriff?_ she thought. _I got into a bar fight,_ she marveled _, and it looks like I won!_

"You kiddin'? Those Red Hots are startin' to drive away my customers – they're some rough birds; they been trying to make this their hangout. The Boom Town Chicks don't like it one bit, cuz this is their territory."

Han reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a voucher. "Here. There's two thousand credits on that voucher. Should cover the cost here."

"Well, ain't you as sweet as you are handsome," she cackled, pocketing the voucher, devouring Han with her eyes. "Foxy was right to deck Big Sal. If you was my fella, and some chick-a-roo started to put her hands all over you, I'd have knocked her teeth out, too."

"I, I knocked her teeth out?" Leia stammered, remembering the tooth in her jacket pocket. She looked up at Han in wonder. And, let's face it, pride.

"Oh, yeah. Your man was gettin' you and your friends drinks and Sal comes up, puts her hands on his ass, starts to rub his arms and chest, and suddenly, you're right between them, yelling that you're gonna punch her in the vagina if she puts another finger on your guy. Now, Sal is almost six feet tall – she's a big one. She starts to laugh, and you just went off like a little fire cracker, fists flying, hair-pulling and moves I never seen. You were like a tiny, colorful tornado, kicking, punching, yelling like a longshoreman. Ol' Sal never knew what hit her. She was out cold before she even hit the floor. Got everyone's blood up and they stopped dancin' and started punchin'. You jumped up on the bar, held up Sal's bloody tooth for everybody to see, and shouted that you're Foxy Lady Marmalade and nobody messes with you or touches your man. Then Handsome, here, pulled you over his shoulder and you all left. Crazy night," she shook her head, chuckling. "And good riddance to those Red Hots!"

"I, um, I didn't punch her in the vagina, did I?" Leia asked hesitantly.

"I don't think so, but you were moving so fast, who knows?" Mave chuckled, then, noticing Luke, she asked, "Hey, is your friend's kid okay? He hasn't moved at all."

 _I married a total badass!_ Han thought, then said, "Oh, yeah, the kid's fine, listen, uh, do you by any chance remember a Wookiee who might have been with us?"

"The Wook? Yeah, big fella. We don't get too many of those in here. I don't think they like to dance. But he was here alright. You were all cheering on your friend over there," Mave said, nudging her chin in Lando's direction.

"Cheering him on?" Han asked, memories beginning to take shape. His lips began to twitch.

"Right up on stage in the dance contest," Mave answered. "He had some pretty good moves. The ladies were lovin' him!" She leered at Lando, who now sat with his hands covering his face, sunglasses and all, murmuring, "Oh, no. Please, no."

"Yeah, yeah, here, I got it on vid," Mave said helpfully, turning on the big screen behind her. The four friends and Mandi gathered to watch.

As Mave fast-forwarded through a few contestants, Lando positioned himself in front of the screen and turned to his friends in a final appeal.

"Okay, look," he pleaded, "I have a pretty good idea what's on that vid. And if we stop here now, if we don't watch it, I'll give you each a ship. And I'll send you on another three month honeymoon, and Sandy, I'll take you to Dizzyland for as long as you want. What do you say?"

The three of them looked at each other and grinned diabolically.

"Nah," Han laughed, crossing his arms.

"Now I have to see that vid!" Leia giggled mischeiviously.

"No way! Dizzyland is dead to me ever since they ruined that **Celestial Battle** saga last year!" Luke declared, remembering how he'd moped in disappointment and anger for months over the much-hyped, long-awaited sequel. "They shouldn't have Awakened it – they should have let it sleep! So much unnecessary bullshit storylines! And then the main guy is only in it for a few silent seconds at the end?! But enough of that – I wanna see that vid! Now move!"

Lando groaned, defeated and moved aside. Here he stood, with a magic marker mustache and jheri-curl perm. _Maybe it's not so bad_ , he thought, _I mean, how much worse could it really be, anyway?_

It turns out, it could be plenty worse. Amid the cheering females (and some males), Lando took the stage to the tune of "Hot Stuff." He began to gyrate, clapping his hands, shaking his chest, and swirling his tush at the audience. "No," he moaned, peeking through his fingers (and sunglasses) as Han, Leia, and Luke convulsed with laughter.

Just when he thought it was almost over, and he'd live through it, he saw himself on screen unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh, no, I didn't!" he cried. But, oh, yes, he did. He flung the shirt off, much to the audiences' screams of delight (and the screams of laughter of his three so-called friends) and flexed his muscles, while making the kind of faces one usually makes in a bathroom mirror while posing alone.

Then the worst thing happened. Dancing Lando reached for the top button on his pants. "Oh, gods, no," he moaned, chanting, "Please don't take your pants off, please don't take your pants off."

"There they go!" Luke crowed. The three of them could barely stand for laughing. Mandi and Mave joined in.

On screen, Lando held his pants overhead, whipping them around like a lasso, all while dancing around in his gold satin, French-cut bikini briefs. Women threw dollar bills at him, stuffing them in his underpants when they could reach him.

"Well, that explains all that loose cash in my pockets," Lando pouted, as the holovid ended and his friends wiped their eyes after the hysteria finally abated.

"Gold bikini briefs?!" Han choked out, wiping his face.

When he could talk, Luke offered, "At least _he_ was wearing underwear."

Leia looked over at her brother with another pained expression. He never failed to surprise her, and sometimes not for the better. He caught her eye and shrugged, gesturing down at his outfit. "Don't ask."

Mave clicked off the holovid. "That was fun! You were great up there, you stallion! The ladies loved you! And best of all, you won last night's contest."

"I, uh, I did?" Lando asked, not able to meet anybody's eyes just yet. "What did I win exactly?" Visions of himself twirling his pants around his head kept leaping to the forefront of his mind.

"The winner gets tickets to the Zigfeld and Troy Magic Show at the Illusion Theatre and Dwayne Newson's show at the Galamio."

"Magic Show?" Luke repeated, catching the eyes of Han and Leia (Lando still had his sunglasses on, but Luke was pretty sure he had his eyes closed in shame.)

"Yeah, it's a great show. You'd like it, sonny. Looks like you're into magic, too. Only, too bad about Mr. Jabbers, aye?" Mave said, beginning to wipe the bar down.

"Mr. Jabbers?" Han asked as he and Leia shot looks over at the bundle in Luke's arms. He frowned back at them.

"Kinko and Mr. Jabbers, you know, the famous ventriloquist act? Well, maybe not so famous, but somebody stole Mr. Jabbers last night after the show. It's been all over the media outlets. Kinko is beside himself and he's even offering a reward," Mandi explained, picking a wedge of orange out of a small dish on the bar. "Look, there he is on tv."

Sure enough, on screen, was a photo of Mr. Jabbers, a.k.a "Lando" the puppet that Luke had fallen asleep with in the dancing cage, and had been carrying around all morning wrapped in the pink cape.

The four friends thanked Mandi and Mave profusely before making a quick exit back onto the street.

"Holy kriff," Luke whined, "I've been carrying around a puppet named Mr. Jabbers?! Could it get any worse?"

"How is that worse?" Leia asked. "It's still the same creepy puppet."

"I don't know, Leia," he sighed, "it just, it just is."

"Don't talk to me about worse," Lando grumbled. "Dancing on stage and twirling my pants over my head! Sweet mother of Chachi . . ."

"Hey, buddy," Han soothed, "at least you won. That's something right?"

Lando glared at him over the sunglasses.

"Wanna go back to the home?" Han teased, easing the tension and making them all chuckle as they headed to the bus stop.

"I would slug you one, Solo, but you're just too damn handsome," Lando bantered back. "And I think your wife would knock my block off."

"I totally would," Leia assured him, grinning as they boarded the bus to the Illusion Theatre. "I'd add your teeth to the collection."

They were so busy whispering about the magic show and what might have happened there last night, that none of them noticed the dark haired, pretty, athletic young woman with red lipstick and a black jacket emblazoned with Boom Town Chicks on the back, get on the bus. She snatched a seat near the front and peeked back, keeping them in her sight.


	5. Chapter 5

****************************AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey, everyone! Hope you all had a nice summer. I've been busy, so this got shoved aside for a while, but I'm back now.

Had a bit of writer's block and was trying to figure out certain plot points to get to the desired conclusion, and I think I finally worked it all out. Still don't know what I'm gonna do with that tiger, but I'll figure it out.

The good news is that the next Chapter is half-way done because this one went on too long and I had to cut it off.

Thank you to everyone who's Read and Reviewed (love the reviews) and to everyone who's enjoyed my little SW adventure. Hope you like the new enstallment.

(And yes, I am working on **The Invitation** , too!)

Oh, also, I'm not actually sure there is such as word as 'be-leathered', but, um, there is now.

Well, let's see what our friends have been up to . . .

************************************1234

 **The Illusion Theatre** was one of the main attractions on the Regas strip, a tall, garish building decked out in columns of crystal and gold metal, featuring spouting fountains out front, and trying to resemble something majestic. For the most part it succeeded, but with an over-the-top cheesiness that visitors seemed to like.

Han, Leia, Lando and Luke, who was still holding Mr. Jabbers under that pink cape, exited the bus with a few other passengers and stood by one of the white marble fountains where a statue of a naked, beautiful, shapely mermaid sat in the middle with water spraying out of the top of her head.

They looked up at the shiny building and each shaded their eyes with a hand. Usually, there were two shows a day on the weekend (including Friday): an afternoon show and one starting much later in the evening with the featured performer coming on around 11 pm. But today, the shows at **The Illusion** were cancelled. A holobanner ran around the building with vids of the tiger, Raja, who was believed to be on the loose, and the missing puppet, Mr. Jabbers, which played on a loop intermingled with snippets of the frantic duo of Zigfeld and Troy, and a distraught, teary-eyed Kinko.

Something unpleasant jabbed at Leia's memory. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah," Han drawled, "I don't think we can just waltz in there and throw Mr. Jabbers in the Lost and Found."

Luke frowned uneasily. Fuzzy images from last night began to take shape in his mind. "Guys? I'm starting to remember something . . ."

 _The five of them had entered the theater in a merry mood, joking and laughing and celebrating Lando's big win at_ _ **Groove Thing**_ _. The visual details were a bit hazy, but Luke remembered they'd been seated up front in a plush, half-moon booth with a table and ordered drinks with the vouchers. Chewie and Leia had teased Han about his days as a magician's assistant until the show started, with Chewie describing the tight, sparkly costume Han wore and how women had thrown underwear onto the stage (Leia was now much more fluent in Shyriiwook and by way of both Han's and her responses, Lando and Luke were able to keep up.) They had all laughed while Han glowered, calling his friend a furball with a big mouth. The most vivid image Luke remembered was of his over-sized coconut daiquiri with bits of pineapple and cherries skewered through a thin little straw._

 _The Kinko and Mr. Jabbers Show was one of the opening acts for the famous Zigfeld and Troy Animal Magic Experience. Kinko was middle-aged, a bit pudgy, dressed in a gold lamé tuxedo with slicked back hair dyed gold to match the suit, and his act involved comedy and magic: card tricks, pulling animals from hats, simple illusions, and using the Mr. Jabbers puppet to deliver foul-mouthed insults to the audience while Kinko took on the role of the seemingly gentle straightman. When he'd called for a volunteer to put in a box and saw in half, Luke's hand had shot straight up in the air and he'd shouted, "Ooh! Ooh, Mr. Jabbers, pick me! Split me in half!"_ ( _Kriff_ , Luke thought with a wince. Leia had surely given him yet another of her patented pained looks that rivaled Uncle Owen's, just as she was doing now while listening to Luke's recollection of events.)

 _When Kinko pointed at their table, Luke had bounded out of his seat and up on stage, ready for his big moment. Kinko and Mr. Jabbers had looked at each other and Mr. Jabbers had said, "Well, he might look like a girl with that curly hair, but I wanted the pretty one!"_

 _"_ _Now, Mr. Jabbers, give the boy a chance will you? Don't give him a hard time," Kinko purred._

 _"_ _You give him a chance!" Mr. Jabbers jabbered. "I'd like to give that pretty girl with the braids a hard time, if you know what I mean!"_

 _"_ _Mr. Jabbers! Will you get ahold of yourself?!"_

 _"_ _She can get ahold of me! Here, sweetie, put your hand up my backside! Feel my chestnuts!"_

 _"_ _You're absolutely incorrigible!" Kinko had admonished before turning to Luke. "Now, sonny, what's your name?"_

 _"_ _Sandy."_

 _"_ _Sandy, huh? You look more like Little Orphan Fannie! Who does your hair, kid? The Electric Company?" the puppet shrilled._

 _"_ _Jabbers!" Kinko warned. "And what do you do young man?"_

 _"_ _I . . . am a pilot," Luke said hesitantly. He'd understood that no matter what he said, the puppet was going to turn it on him._

 _"_ _A pilot, huh? Looks like the only thing you should be flying is a kite!"_

 _Luke remembered the whole exchange had garnered only a dim smattering of polite chuckles and he began to suspect Zigfeld and Troy kept the act to look better by contrast and to build anticipation of the main event._

 _After Kinko rebuked Mr. Jabbers again, they sent Luke backstage to change. One of the assistants chose the Shazam costume and the other applied eyeliner for dramatic effect (_ he left out the part where it had actually been his idea, but Leia had a suspicious eyebrow raised, so he quickly continued.)

 _When Luke returned on stage, Kinko and Mr. Jabbers made some baser comments about Leia and lame jokes about Luke's costume, how maybe he was the pretty one after all, and the like._

 _"_ _Now, don't you want to put this boy in the box and saw him in half?" Kinko asked._

 _"_ _I'd like it better if I saw his back half walking away. But I'd sure like to get that girl in the box! And from behind, and up, and down, and everywhere else! Then we could do the trick! Hubba, hubba, bubba! What's her name, Little Orphan Sandy?"_

 _"_ _Well, she's my sister," Luke said. By this time he sensed the audience was becoming bored with the tired, old, sexist shtick, and wanted the Zigfeld and Troy show to start already. It made him wary._

 _"_ _Sister? Who was your mother, a circus clown?" Jabbers countered._

 _"_ _Now, Sandy, why don't you get in the box?" Kinko asked genially._

 _"_ _He'd have to come out of the closet first!" the puppet screeched._

 _"_ _Hey!" Luke protested. The leotard was starting to itch and he was tired of being the butt of the corny gay/girlie jokes already._

 _"_ _Don't mind Mr. Jabbers, young man, he's a bit naughty," Kinko purred._

 _"_ _Cut it out, Kinko, from what I can see of his friends, I think he likes naughty dummies," Mr. Jabbers sneered._

 _Luke rolled his kohl-ringed eyes as someone in the audience coughed. If there had been crickets present, they certainly would have been chirping. "Okay, so when are you going to tell the 'funny' joke? You know, the one that doesn't suck?" he blurted out and laughter suddenly bloomed from the audience. That was more like it._

 _Kinko was taken off guard, but only for a moment. "So, we've got a wiseguy, huh? Tell me, Mr. Wiseguy, are you a comedian?" The tone of his question told Luke that he'd dealt with hecklers before and had something pretty nasty prepared._

 _"_ _No, are you?" Luke countered, the audience laughter and renewed interest bolstering his confidence._

 _"_ _Listen, kid," Kinko frowned, talking low now, sweat beginning to pour from under his gold pompadour, "I'm working my ass off up here."_

 _Luke made an exaggerated point of looking at Kinko's ass. "Oh, I think you could work a little harder." Now people were clapping as well as laughing. Luke gave them all a huge grin and a little wave. Forget being sawed in half – this was much more fun!_

 _"_ _You think this is easy?" Kinko demanded, Mr. Jabbers forgotten like an old umbrella in his hand._

 _"_ _In comparison to fighting in the war against the Empire? Yes, I do think this is easy," Luke shot back._

 _"_ _Is that so?!" Mr. Jabbers flopped bonelessly, his head pointed toward the floor, as Kinko glared at the bedazzled young man._

 _"_ _Yes! It is so!" Luke glared back._

 _Flustered now, Kinko shouted, "It takes years to learn these tricks and how to play to an audience! But Mr. Funnyman here thinks it's easy! So, Mr. Funnyman, if it's so kriffing easy, do a trick! Go on! Let's see what you got, smart-mouth!" The audience oohed and sat forward in their seats, eager to see if the uppity 'Sandy' was up for the challenge._

 _Luke merely shrugged. "Okay." Suddenly, his daiquiri glass levitated from the table in front of the stage and landed neatly in his hand to the sound of thunderous applause._

 _"_ _What is this? A set up? Did Tony send you?!" The pompadour shook with outrage._

 _"_ _No," Luke insisted, "it's magic! Look, I can do this, too." The cards which were scattered on the floor from a previous trick swirled and flew into a neat stack then floated above Kinko's head where they rained down over him. "That's for saying those nasty things about my sister, you creep. And, for the record, you couldn't cut a loaf of bread in half, much less a person! I can do way better magic than you ever could!"_

 _"_ _Why you!" Kinko started swinging Mr. Jabbers at 'Sandy.'_

 _"_ _I warn you, I know karatay!" Luke lithely evaded the puppet with a series of fancy foot work and weird poses. "I can jump really high, too! I'm Shazam the Super Flyswatter!" He then squatted in some kind of Spider-man pose, fluttering his hands around his eyes then pulling them apart to reveal his face and the audience went nuts._

"You challenged him to a magic dual," Leia muttered, closing her eyes and shaking her head with another astonishing imitation of Uncle Owen's 'that-boy-ain't-right' gestures as the memory grew. Images of Luke and Kinko flashed by: Kinko balancing a pole on the end of his nose with a dish spinning at the top; Luke countering with whipping a table cloth from under dishes, then putting it back undisturbed the same way; Kinko making an audience member disappear under a sheet through a little door in the floor; Luke making Mr. Jabbers walk and dance on his own as the audience cheered louder for each trick. The final coup de gras for Kinko was the last trick. Both Luke and Kinko were tied up with chains to see who could escape first. Luke, drunk now on applause and alcohol (and unbeknownst to him, Roofies,) was true to his word about jumping really high. He leapt, did a tuck/roll mid-air, and landed with the chains hanging freely around him, while Kinko struggled in the background _._ Kinko, still bound, then hopped off stage, shouting and cursing as Luke bowed deeply to a standing ovation.

"That's right!" Lando enthused as bits of memory returned. "The kid was incredible! And he stuck the landing."

"He was pretty cool up there," Han commented, a bit of awe in his voice that made Luke stand a little taller and preen as the cape fluttered around him.

"Cool?!" Leia's voice and eyes were incredulous. _Have the men gone stupid?_ _My brother, hero of the Rebellion who blew up the Death Star and the Jedi who helped take down Palpatine, pranced around on that stage in front of a full audience in that ridiculous Shazam leotard and had a magic-off with some two-bit, half-assed performer who –_

"Yeah," Han continued, cutting off her thoughts, "he was having fun. He took on some disgusting, loud-mouthed, two-bit, half-assed ventriloquist who kept insulting both him and you. He stood up to him and he won. I think he was great up there."

Leia's expression softened. _Look at me, dressed like this, getting into bar fights – who am I to judge? And it_ was _fun watching Lando dance, and taking down a loudmouth, two-bit gang leader who had her hands on my man. Leave it once again to Han to put things into perspective for me. No wonder I love him so much._ "You're right." She quirked her lips into a smile and stepped over to Luke. "You _were_ pretty amazing up there," she said, hugging him.

Luke grinned broadly down at his sister. "See? I am The Amazing Super Flyswatter!"

Leia rolled her eyes in jest and playfully punched him on the bicep. "Don't push it. Watching you use the Force to make that puppet dance was creepy."

"Well, well, well," Lando said in a cautiously smooth voice, "Han won big at the Sabaac table; Leia knocked out Big Sal; Luke out-magicked Kinko; I won a dance contest. We were _all_ pretty cool, huh?"

Han, Luke, and Leia exchanged looks again.

"Uhn uhn," Han grinned.

"No way, Hot Stuff," Leia giggled.

"Dude, you lost a bet, twirled your pants over your head and you're wearing gold bikini briefs," Luke frowned. "How is that ever cool?"

Lando narrowed his eyes at them again as the three of them began to snicker, but before he could retort, people started running and shrieking.

"The tiger!"

"It's on the loose, watch out!"

"I think I see it!"

The four of them loped across the street with the scattered crowd to watch as Animal Control personnel, along with the glittery, Frost-&-Tip team of Zigfeld and Troy themselves, gathered by the fountains to strategize.

"Nah," Han commented, "there's no tiger here. I don't think they found it yet." He wrapped an arm around Leia. "I wonder how it got loo . . ." As his voice trailed off, he looked down and met Leia's brown eyes. Slowly, they turned their heads to stare at Luke, who looked back sheepishly.

"Uh, I can explain. I think." Luke shifted Mr. Jabbers on his hip and began. "I went backstage to change my clothes and, well, there were these cages under there that lift the animals up through the floor onto the stage, right? So, I thought it'd be funny if, instead of a tiger, I'd be in the cage when Zigfeld and Troy whipped off the sheet."

"So you just let it out?" Lando asked doubtfully. Even deliberately drunk and accidentally high, he didn't believe for a minute that Luke Skywalker would just set a tiger on the loose.

"No," Luke winced, his voice lowering into a faint mumble as the memory flooded back, "no, I, uh, put it in Kinko's dressing room."

"Luke!" Leia exclaimed.

"Well, he wasn't in there," he scoffed, rolling his eyes, but omitting the 'duh'. "He was yelling into his phone, all red in the face. What a baby."

Leia pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes and took a few deep cleansing breaths. "So you put a tiger in his room?"

He thought for a second, remembering. "Yes. I guess as soon as I saw him blubbering, that's when I decided where to put the tiger. And when I opened the door to his room, I saw Mr. Jabbers on the couch."

"And you just took him?!" Leia goggled.

"I wasn't stealing him; I was just gonna put him in the cage with me," he explained as if to a child. "Geez, Leia, it's not that hard."

Leia resisted smacking her forehead and slowly drawing her hand down her face, but Han spoke before she could respond.

"That would have been funny," Han mused, beginning to snicker.

"I would've loved to have seen that," Lando agreed with a short laugh.

 _The men have gone stupid again_ , she thought before saying, "Okay, so you put the tiger in the room and got into the cage with the puppet – for the first time." She shook her head and muttered, "Can't believe I'm even saying that. So then what happened?"

Luke shrugged, his perm rifling gently in a scant breeze. "I waited, but then, instead of the Zigfeld and Troy show starting, I heard screaming. Kinko was screaming, 'There's a tiger in my room!'" He began to chuckle at the memory.

"Luke!" Leia exclaimed again. Even exasperated, she had to admit to herself, he did make it hard not to laugh with him.

"Sorry, Leia, but you didn't see him in that gold lamé tuxedo, slapping his thighs and shouting about tigers, running around in a circle and waving his hands," he laughed harder, Han and Lando joining him. After a moment, he managed to continue. "The tiger was roaring. I think Kinko scared it when he was waving his hands around and shrieking. That's when I realized that they were gonna find me in the cage and know I did it, so I got out of there and found you guys and we left. That's it. At least that's all I remember."

"So where did we go next?" Leia wondered as more bits of memory floated around in her mind, of laughing and walking in the night air in a crowd of people with Han's arm around her and Chewie's grumbling voice, of Dwayne Newson on stage, of putting coins in slot machines, of dancing with Han and Lando and Luke, of Han playing more Sabaac while she and Chewie ordered more drinks, of Luke making Mr. Jabbers dance and tumble on the street while people threw money and in bars where people clapped. The images were a fuzzy jumble of noises and sensations which had no coherent order, but they seemed to be getting a little clearer with every place they visited and when one of them remembered something.

"Uh, sweetheart?" Han said, making her look up at him. "I think I know at least one place we went." He was staring above her head as if lost in thought.

"You do? Where?"

He simply took her chin in his hand and turned her head to look at the window of the nearest storefront.

Her mouth fell open. There, in the window of **The Happiest Little Wedding Chapel and Tattoo Parlor in Regas** , was a photo of the back of a couple at the altar. The man's hair with the golden highlights and the brown suede shirt looked suspiciously like Han, and the woman's long, colorful braids and jean jacket looked suspiciously like Leia.

"That's us!" she gasped.

**************************123

A bell tinkled as they entered the premises of the establishment better known as **The Happiest Little Chapel and Tattoo Parlor in Regas**. The outer lobby was decorated in white lace curtains and white vinyl chairs and lots of mirrors with a front counter filled with wedding rings and veils and the like. On the walls were posted rates, package specials, photos of happy customers, and twinkling white lights.

After perhaps ten seconds, a dark haired human male emerged from a door behind the counter.

"My friends! Look who's here!" he exclaimed excitedly in a thick accent, coming around the end of the counter to greet them. He enveloped Han in a great hug, clapping him on the back. "How are you, my friend?! You miss me? You miss Freddie? And where's your beautiful girl? There she is!" He hugged Leia, too, laughing, "You two are wild! Look at you! Look at the two of you! So beautiful and wild! And you, you crazy man!" Here, he snagged Lando in an embrace, "you are crazy! Insane! Gold bikini briefs! My gods! But this, this one-" he pointed at Luke, "I have to tell you, I've met many people in my life, many people have come through here, but he is the sickest, most crazy bastard of them all!"

Luke looked at the stranger, wide-eyed, and innocently pointed to himself, which made Freddie burst out laughing as he came forward and hugged him enthusiastically. "Yes, you and that little puppet droid of yours! Is that him in the blanket? You are one sick son of a bitch! I thought you were going to eat me, you know what I am saying?! Ha! What's the matter, you have no love for Freddie?"

"Freddie? Is that your name?" Han asked hesitantly. The swirl of last night's lost memories were trying to paste themselves together.

"Of course, it's Freddie, you don't remember me?" Freddie asked, still laughing.

"Uh, actually, Freddie, we're having a bit of trouble remembering much of last night," Leia confessed. "Somebody Roofied us and we were drinking and . . ."

He nodded, not at all surprised. "Happens all the time, my friends. You all came in here and the two of you wanted to get married. I hope you have not changed your minds. I've seen a lot of couples in my time, but rarely have I seen such love between two people. I mean that sincerely."

Leia blushed and smiled, melting into Han's side. "No, we didn't change our minds. We just want to know what happened, see if we can remember anything. Can you help us out?"

Freddie's smile widened with relief. "Of course, of course, come with me, come back here." He led them through the door into the chapel in the back. There were six small pews on either side of a short aisle carpeted in gold crepe.

"Was there . . . I seem to remember . . . a Velvet Cresley impersonator?" Leia said, cocking her head in wistful concentration.

"Yes, yes, that's my cousin, Sergio," Freddie enthused. "He does a very nice job. You picked the Velvet Cresley Deluxe Package, my friends."

Han nodded, a smile beginning to form. "He sang, ' _I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.'_ Remember?"

She remembered:

. . . _walking down the glittery gold aisle toward Han, who stood in front of the altar, tall and handsome and smiling that dazzling smile, the one that made her swoon with weak knees and made her heartbeat pound in her ears. Luke's and Lando's vague shapes occupied one side of the aisle, and on the other side seemed to be Chewie and someone else. But all she could focus on was Han, and she had to resist the urge to run the rest of the way when he held out his hand as she approached. They giggled at each other and held hands while Freddie conducted the ceremony. Han told her how he knew, as soon as she opened her mouth and delivered that very first insult, that she was the girl for him, how he'd followed her around the galaxy and dreamt of her every night, and that he was the luckiest guy who ever lived because she was his. Through stray tears, she confessed that she'd fallen hopelessly in love with him before she even landed in the garbage chute, how thinking about him had kept her up most nights, and that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her and he made her happier than she had a right to be. Then Dick and Foxy took each other for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all others, until the end of time._

 _After Freddie pronounced them husband and wife, they leaned in to seal the deal with a slow, sweet kiss. Then there seemed to be a commotion involving Chewie . . ._

"Yes, your hairy friend had to tackle Dwayne Newson. He didn't even look like a very good impersonator, I'm telling you. Sergio is a much better Velvet," Freddie insisted.

"Yeah," Han coughed, "impersonator. Right."

Luke chuckled to himself, "Dick and Foxy. Classic."

Lando gave him a look before saying, "At least we know the big fella was here with us, right? When was this? When did we come in?"

"Around two-thirty this morning," Freddie said, "You were all so crazy. You had just come in from **The Galamio**. Shazam, here, wanted to marry the puppet-doll, thought it would be funny! Ha!"

"Well, that wouldn't be legal anyway," Leia observed, trying to sound calm as her stomach began to clench with dread. "Would it? I mean, he, um, didn't, did he?" _First K8-E and now Mr. Jabbers . . . I'll have to remember to check on 3PO when we get back. And I haven't seen R2 in a while, ether._ She eyed her brother uneasily.

"No, no, legally, a sentient, organic being cannot marry a droid or an object, no," Freddie reassured her (she let out an audible 'whew'), "but he was crackin' my balls, making the doll chase Goldie-Pants here! He was shrieking like a woman!" ("Hey!" Lando's mouth dropped open in mortification.) Freddie laughed and pointed at Luke, "You, my friend, should really have your own magic show! Very funny, very crazy, this guy!"

Luke gave his sister a good-natured grin. "See, Lei-dy Marmalade? You can relax; I didn't marry a puppet," he tutted smugly.

"Well, that's certainly something to boast about," she retorted dryly. _Yet anothing thing I never expected to come out of Luke's mouth_. "Especially after Hapes." Luke had had quite the time, for lack of a better phrase, during their visit for the Royal Wedding. There had been the nude beach incident, as well as what Han had termed, 'the night of the three women,' among other things, but to be fair, it was Hapes, a place where too much was not enough, where over the top was the norm, much like Mas Regas. Luke, she grudgingly admitted, had probably been somewhat tame by Hapan standards. And he was single, after all.

"Hey, what happens on Hapes, stays on Hapes," Luke quipped, turning a few shades darker under her knowing gaze. "And it wasn't my fault Mon didn't know it was a nude beach, okay? She should have read the signs. Sheesh."

"She still can't look you in the eye," Leia smirked.

"Yeah, well, she wasn't looking me in the eye at the beach, either," Luke muttered, cracking them all up, as he remembered the very uncomfortable weeks-long flight back to Coruscant onboard **The Sweet Liberty** , during which the Chief of State made a point of taking most of her meals in her room, claiming hyperspace was giving her an inner ear disturbance.

Even as he laughed, something was poking at Lando's brain, something he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to, but he had to ask. "Um, Freddie, how do you know about my, uh, gold underpants?" _Kriff, does everybody in Regas know? Who else did I show them to?_ He imagined dancing his way through the Regas streets, pants whirling over his head, gold underwear flashing under the famous billboard lights.

"I saw them when I was inking your tattoo. Your friends here were cracking wise and calling you 'Hot Stuff.' I think you won a stripping contest or something," Freddie shrugged.

Lando stared at him open mouthed again with mortification as Luke chortled behind his back, "Classic."

"You got a tattoo?" Han laughed, "Let's see!"

"Of course, of course," Freddie chuckled, "you all did. Normally the Velvet Deluxe Package only includes tattoos for the happy couple, but since you paid a little extra for the replacement documents that were destroyed during the war, I threw in a few extra for your friends."

Everybody was silent for a moment, staring at each other in horrified shock, then Han said, "Um, we _all_ got tattoos? Are you sure?"

"You all wanted to commemorate the wild night you were having. Come, I'll show you."

They hesitantly followed Freddie though the door behind the altar and into the tattoo parlor which was filled with drawings, photos, chairs, bottles of inks and antiseptics, trays and tools. There was a large mirror along one wall and Freddie led them over. "Take a look at your right hips."

The little group frowned at each other, silently daring each other to go first, when finally, Lando sighed. "Okay. Let's see." He tuned to position his right hip at the mirror, pulled up his shirt and pulled down the waistband of his pants just low enough to expose his hip. "Please don't say 'Hot Stuff', please don't say, 'Super Freak,'" he chanted. What they found was a drawing of a solid black mustache with the words **Smooth Operator** underneath in a funky, disco-type font. "Hey!" he shouted with relief, "not bad!"

Freddie beamed.

"I want to see mine, too," Leia piped up excitedly. Her father and aunts would have _never_ allowed this! She took Lando's place before the mirror and regarded the men around her. "Um, guys? I'm wearing a dress. I have to pull it up, so you can't look. Except you," she said to Han. "You can look." He grinned down at her as Lando, Freddie and Luke stepped back and turned away. Leia hiked her dress up over her hip and moved the tiny band on her barely-there panties aside ("Nice," Han growled playfully in her ear.) There, on her smooth, creamy skin was the name **Foxy Lady Marmalade** in a pretty open script filled in with all the colors of her hair. "I love it," she marveled, describing it for the others. She wondered what Mon Mothma would say about this. "It's beautiful," Han agreed, wriggling his eyebrows, "and the tattoo isn't bad, either."

"Funny," she chided. "You're up, Flyboy." With that, she yanked down her dress and moved him into place while Lando, Luke and Freddie moved back in.

With trepidation, Han unzipped his fly and slowly lowered the right hip of his jeans. _Dear gods, what could it be?_ he wondered. _A blaster? I (heart)_ _Princesses? Chewie Forever? Those would be tame. What if it has to do with an old girlfriend, like Bria, or something dumb, like 'I had the rest, and I kept the best'? I can get pretty out of hand when I'm drunk. Maybe not like Luke, but still._ Leia lifted the edge of his shirt to reveal a spiky, gothic script reading **Scoundrel** with a small princess crown hanging off the letter ' **d**.' He laughed with relief and remembered it had been Leia who had chosen it and had made sure Freddie didn't mar his 'perfect, sweet ass' (Leia's words.) "I'll need to get a better look at this later," she whispered suggestively, winking at him as the others chattered around them.

"Me, now," Luke insisted, nudging Han out of the way and shoving the puppet into his brother-in-law's arms, making Lando gasp and jump back a little. Like Leia, Luke had never been allowed this kind of freedom and had never been on his own like Lando and Han had. He'd gone from being a repressed, sensitive, goofy, good-hearted nineteen year old kid on his uncle's farm, to being a soldier in the Rebellion where there was structure, discipline, and routine, to a being a Jedi-in-training padawan with Yoda, to being what he was now: a Commander in Rogue Squadron and a Jedi Master. The concept of fun was on short order most of the time, and his path had been chosen for him by circumstance and the Force. Instead of struggling to make his way in the world, figuring out his life, and the folly of youth, Luke's stresses included upholding the Jedi standard and trying to live up to it, especially in light of what had become of his father. It was an overwhelming responsibility and one he took very seriously and because of that, he lived for occasional stuff like this - a chance to just be Luke, that goofy kid from Tattooine without Uncle Owen's and Aunt Beru's restrictions and rules.

Now, eagerly, he flipped back the cape and slipped his arms from the top of the unitank and began to pull it down.

"Um, what - ?" Leia began, making a face. Luke was so impulsive when he was under the influence and she winced at the thought of what was on his hip.

"It's one piece, Foxy," he explained and pulled the leotard down over his hip. They all craned their necks to see.

"Is that a . . ." Lando muttered, biting his lips.

"It looks like, well . . ." Han tried, squinting again at the image. _Couldn't be. Could it?_

"Please tell me it's not what it looks like," Leia breathed. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, not when he was dressed like that, dragging a doll around Mas Regas. The only thought she could comfort herself with was that he'd been full of liquor and Roofies and didn't know any better. Probably.

Luke pushed the cape back again and twisted a little to get a better look. "Sweet!" he grinned.

"Sweet?" Leia repeated, staring at the little picture on her brother's hip. It appeared to be a vertical, long, blue cylindrical object, perhaps an inch and half long, with two circles underneath, one yellow and one orange. To Leia and the others, it looked like a set of some weird kind of erect male genitals.

"Well, I was kind of afraid I'd gotten a tattoo of that puppet. I mean, who'd want that on their ass? You saw how Darcy reacted on the train. But, see? That long blue thing is a light saber and those two circles underneath are the twin suns of Tattooine." He happily examined the tattoo, totally oblivious as Lando, Han, and Leia exchanged looks.

Han bowed his head, hiding his grin, afraid Lando would set him off again, and put a comforting arm around his wife, pulling her against him as she muttered, "But it looks like a . . . well, you know, with . . . big, yellow balls . . . under . . . it."

Next to them, Lando bit his lips and quietly snorted laughter, mostly at hearing the princess utter the word, 'balls.'

"It's not funny," Leia hissed, beginning to laugh herself, as she felt Han follow suit, letting his repressed laughter go, while Luke skivvied back into his unitard.

Freddie clapped his hands together, "I'm so glad you're happy, you crazy mother-lovers. The 'puter was down, so your video, photos, mugs, and everything else will be ready tomorrow."

Han nodded, "That's fine. No problem, but, uh, you don't happen to know where we might've headed after we left, do you, Freddie?"

"Yes, sure, that Dwayne Newson guy wanted you to go back to **The Malagio** with him, said he had a room there. I hope you did not go with him. He seemed very sketchy to me, especially after the tattoo he asked for."

"What do you mean?" Han asked warily, as another memory began to bubble to the surface. _But why would I be on a stage? Was there singing? Oh, gods, I wasn't singing, was I?_ Visions of his brother-in-law singing awkward karaoke at The Blue Paradise Lounge needled him. _Oh, no! Not like Luke! Not that!_

"Well, you know. Your face," Freddie hesitated, looking embarrassed.

"My face?" Han's expression was one of bewilderment and dread.

"Yeah, yeah, he wanted me to make a tattoo of your face on his hip. You don't remember that?"

Behind his back, Luke, Leia, and Lando began to snicker again. Han couldn't even muster a frown at them as snippets of memories began to take shape. "Uh, no. So, um, what happened? You didn't, I mean, he didn't, uh . . ." A horrifying fantasy began to play out in his mind, of Dwayne Newson performing various, everyday acts, such as brushing his teeth, swimming, and showering, all while Han's own face sat perched on his beefy haunch. He imagined Dwayne up on stage, all sweaty, and his (Han's) face smooshed in the dark, on that burly, be-leathered ass. He shook his head as if to clear his mind like a shaken snow globe.

"No, no," Freddie protested, "are you kidding me? The guy was creepy! He tried to stop the wedding and your hairy friend had to tackle him. So I gave him a tat of a goofy-looking orange Gungan instead. I didn't like how he kept eying you, Dick, and trying to weasel himself between you and Foxy, trying to push her out of the way so he could have you all to himself."

Han's eyebrows shot straight up. "What?!"

Freddie shook his head, "He could not keep his hands off you, my friend. Your wife finally had to threaten to punch him in the vagina."

At this, Lando's deep laugh rumbled freely; Leia covered her mouth, trying to stop the giggles from bursting through; and Luke had the audacity to cackle gleefully, despite the fact that he stood at the mirror, wiping off smudges from his eyeliner. Han gave them a fierce glare, narrowing his eyes and pressing his lips together for emphasis.

Finally, it was time to leave the chapel/tattoo parlor. They thanked Freddie, hugging him, and promised to come back tomorrow for their wedding items. Then they found themselves back on the street, making their way down the Strip toward **The Malagio** , happy and hopeful that there was a very good chance they would find the missing Wookiee asleep in Dwayne Newson's suite. (Both Luke and Leia insisted he was still sleeping and safe, but that's as far as the Force would allow.)

Bits of last night's adventures with the legendary Dwayne Newson continued to come forth, much to Han's horror..

"He serenaded you!" Luke exclaimed animatedly as they walked.

"What? No," Han protested weakly, because some of the fog was clearing off the memory. After the magic show, they'd gone down the street to **The Malagio** to gamble and see the show. And there was something about Chewie, something he couldn't quite grasp.

"Yes, he did! He pulled you up on stage!" Luke insisted with gleeful amusement.

"And Chewie was mad," Leia interjected merrily, "he was so jealous!" She remembered his petty howls and barks of bitter envy as Han was reluctantly, physically pulled onstage by Dwayne himself. _[That's not fair! I'm his number one fan! You suck, cub!]_

"And you weren't too happy about it either," Lando chuckled at Han, "you sat on a tall stool in the middle of the stage, brooding and cringing as Newson sang to you, up close and personal! You looked like you were at the dentist's office having a root canal!"

They laughed as Leia recalled, "And when you said your name was Dick, Dwayne said, 'Dick, huh? I like it.' Not that there's anything wrong with that, but the look on your face was priceless!" Then she did an imitation of Han's expression of appalled horror that made even Han laugh.

"He was pretty aggressive. He kept you up there for a while," Luke added, "you kept trying to sneak off and escape and he kept wrangling you back onto that stool. I remember you mouthing the word, 'Help!' at us, and the whole audience was cracking up."

 _"_ _Dick, Dick, where ya going, buddy?" Dwayne said, wrapping a white-leathered, meaty arm around Han's shoulders and forcefully steering him back to the stool after Han had tiptoed to the edge of the stage when Dwayne's back was turned. "You're not trying to leave me, are ya? Not trying to skip out on old Dwayne, right? Stay, stay, you'll like this one!" he crooned and broke into a rendition of_ _ **Strangers in the Night**_ _._

"Yeah," Lando added, "and when he finally did let you leave the stage, he said, 'This is Dick, everybody! Give him a big hand! I know I'd like to.'"

At this point, they were laughing too hard to walk, and had to stop for a moment.

"Thanks for not rescuing me or anything," he groused in an exaggerated 'I-hope-you're-all-happy-so-just-laugh-it-up' tone, folding his arms in front of him, watching them crack up again. "And you, princess, you let him put his big, meaty hands all over me." He slowly shook his head at her, affecting a wounded air, trying not to laugh.

"He did, too!" Lando crowed. "Remember, he kept feeling his biceps, saying, 'What a man! Feel these guns!'"

When they were able to resume walking, Leia took Han's hand and giggled, "Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll protect you from Dwayne Newson and any other nightclub singer who tries to take advantage of you."

Han grinned down at her, squeezing her hand. "Actually, I'm relieved," he admitted as they came to the corner and waited to cross the street, "I kept wondering why I remembered being onstage, kinda worried I was singing or something."

"At least you weren't whipping your pants around your head," Leia chuckled, shooting a look at Lando.

"Hey! I –"

And that was when a blue hover-truck screeched to a halt at the curb next to them.

Two woman emerged from either side. One of them was a dark-haired, pretty, athletic type with red lipstick, and the other was petite, sporting a reddish Mohawk ponytail and a diamond stud in her nose, and both wore black jackets with Boom Town Chicks emblazoned on the back.

"Hey," the one with red lipstick called, jogging up next to them. (Leia swore she'd seen her earlier on the bus.) Mohawk was slower, sauntering over on high heels, chewing gum.

"So this is Foxy Lady Marmalade," Mohawk said, eying Leia up and down. She didn't exactly wear a sneer, but it was hard to tell, because her face was kind of naturally pooched that way.

"Who are you?" Leia asked as Han protectively put an arm around her, his hand resting on the butt of his blaster under his shirt. Lando and Luke flanked her other side for good measure, though the fact that one was wearing a magic-marker mustache and the other was dressed like an out-of-work magician's assistant might have discredited the intimidating, protective gesture.

"I'm Diamond," she answered in a clipped, nasally whine. "I'm leader of The Boom Town Chicks. That's Sweet Rosie," she said, nodding to the other girl. Her gum cracked loudly as she chewed open mouthed. "Follow me." With that, she tottered past them down the side street, taking quick, tiny steps.

************************ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter just seemed to keep going on too long, so I decided to save the rest for the next chapter.

Also, the next chapter of **The Invitation** will be up in a couple of weeks.

Oh! And I just came up with an idea about the tiger! Hah! Yes!

Stay tuned for more wackiness (I bet you're all wondering when Luke is finally going to change out of that Shazam unitank, huh? We'll see . . . )


	6. Chapter 6

Princess Leia Forever! Leia Lives On!

Okay, so I know this is long and I warned you that this is not a proper chapter, but a tribute/discussion regarding Carrie Fisher and what I intend to do with my fan fics. I updated both of my stories, **The Invitation** and **Leia's Very Bad Day** with this same update, so no need to read both if you are so inclined.

Before I get to my essay, I have to share this because it made me laugh: I just read an article in Variety that Mark Hamill penned about Carrie Fisher. In it, he recounts how she once coerced him into dressing up in her white one-piece snowsuit from The Empire Strikes Back. She put a bald-cap on his head with clown hair, complete with a fake nose and glasses and had him parade in the back lot, and he wrote that the outfit was so tight he felt like a Vegas lounge singer. Now, the reason it made me laugh is obvious if you've been reading **Leia's Very Bad Day**. I quite enjoy dressing Luke up in ridiculous outfits and making him do and say outrageous things myself, and I guess Carrie liked to do the same with Mark in real life. Since Mark's done it in real life, I don't feel so bad making Luke do so in my stories. Hint: he'll be doing a bit more of that in **The Invitation** , too.

This is what I wrote a few days ago:

What a shitty Christmas, huh? I had the day off on Friday Dec. 23rd, had just finished mopping the floor and decided to take a little break before wrapping the presents and then vacuuming the living room and bathroom because Christmas Eve was at our house this year. I turned on the computer and my heart sank when I saw the little picture of a 40-ish Carrie Fisher, smiling with her eyes half-closed with the caption that she had collapsed on a plane and had apparently suffered a heart attack, condition unknown. What really got me was the fact that in that picture she is in front of a yellow stucco wall. I've never told anyone except the hubby this, but many years ago in the 80s, I had a dream that there was an all-Star Wars channel on the tv (this was when cable consisted of your regular 3 channels, PBS, a Canadian station, and a premium movie channel that played about 5 movies the entire month). In the dream, a news reporter sat in front of a yellow stucco wall with the Star Wars logo in bas relief, and she reported that Carrie Fisher had been killed in an automobile accident. I woke up shaken, and was on edge for weeks, worrying about her. So when I saw that wall behind her in that little picture, part of me felt it was an omen.

If you haven't read my biography, I'll recap: I saw Star Wars as a little girl when it first came out in that fabled year of 1977. Like most of you (I actually assume all of you if you are reading and writing fan fic), I was hooked. My main crush that year was John Travolta, but I managed a simultaneous mini-crush on Mark Hamill/Luke Skywalker, too, unbeknownst to my grade-school friends who were drooling all over those tender, pasty boys Shawn Cassidy and Andy Gibb (I've always, even as a young girl, liked older men – take a look at Barry Gibb of the BeeGees of that era – Holy Crap, he's hot. I would have preferred him over those innocent, hairless young boys any day!) Anyway, I liked to daydream a lot and would write stories about my adventures as Princess Leia's young sister who'd been sent into hiding with the Rebels on Yavin 4. I didn't have a Star Wars name or anything, just my own, and I would imagine that I had been discovered by George Lucas as my mom and I were having lunch at Howard Johnson's when we were visiting relatives in California. I would tell Mike Douglas and his audience how Mr. Lucas had come over to our table as I was eating my fried clam platter and asked my mom to bring me by the next day for an audition because I looked a lot like Carrie Fisher (brown eyes, long brown hair, round cheeks) and would be perfect for the role, and I can't tell you how many times in my mind, I sat on Merv Griffin's couch and recounted how the kids at school spurned me now that I was reluctantly famous.

**Please note that I am not insane. I know, I know – people who are insane never think they are insane. I will admit to being quirky and downright weird, but I did have a very normal life. I had a middle class, suburban family, a close circle of friends, I did normal kid-stuff, got along with most kids at school, suffered my share of bullies, wrote in my journals, did well in school, and above all, I understood that these were fantasies and daydreams, which were just fun and escapist things to think of when I was bored, and I never believed it was in any way real. I do have a normal family life and a job and stuff. I just want to assure you all that I did not have a break with reality. (Um, okay, so for our wedding cake topper, we may have used Han Solo and Princess Leia action figures, but, hey, who hasn't? Am I right? Anybody?)

The month before The Empire Strikes Back was released, my mom bought me the paperback book. Yes, I did know that Darth Vader was Luke's father a full month before the movie came out and I didn't tell anyone. Because I didn't care about that; I had fallen head-over-heels in love with Harrison Ford/Han Solo! I had recently begun to read romance novels, and I recognized the sexual tension and banter between the sexy smuggler and the haughty princess. (If anyone doesn't already know, romance novels are lady porn – there's lots of heaving bosoms, castles, and tight breeches, where the virginal young lady, usually a high-born noble, falls in love with the lowly, smart-mouthed, sexy pirate, and there's lots of sex.) When the movie came out, I swooned when Han and Leia kissed for the first time after all that arguing and denying their feelings for each other. Sigh. It wasn't until my best friend (she's still my best friend today!), who also happened to have a crush on Han, sneered that Han could do better than Leia, that I realized I was in love with her, too. I defended Leia, and accepted that I had fallen hopelessly in love with Han and Leia and their love story. It captured my imagination, filled countless hours of daydreams, and they are the basis of every love story I write, whether it's fan fic or other stories I come up with. Their names may change, the setting may change, but it is always about Han and Leia.

Now, throughout the years, I've watched many interviews with Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher, read many articles about them and their lives, and, of course, seen many a movie starring either of them. I literally cannot count how many times I saw Raiders of the Lost Ark that summer it came out (well into the 20s - no lie) and while I loved Indiana Jones and thought he had great chemistry with Marion, I did not thrill to them as a couple as I did Han and Leia, and Carrie's roles in subsequent movies did not capture my imagination either. So while I harbored crushes on the movie stars themselves, I've come to understand that they are NOT Han and Leia. Of course not; they are real people - actors - who play roles. And of course I love them, too, as real people who brought me Han and Leia and Luke and the rest. I'm a Star Wars fan after all and the characters the actors, the story . . . well, they're all a part of it, so how could I not love them? As a kid, it wasn't easy discerning the difference, but I never held it against Harrison and Carrie that they were not married to each other. I knew they were good friends, and that was good enough for me. I would always say to myself, 'God, I hope they did it in real life.' They just have so much chemistry in The Empire Strikes Back. In November of the sucky year of 2016, Carrie revealed that they really did do it and it threw me for a loop, because somehow, I wanted them to be attracted to each other, do it, and be friends, and that's true – it did happen, but I didn't want either of them to be hurt by it, you know? In her last memoir, The Princess Diarist, Carrie reveals more than just a physical affair; she reveals Harrison to be pretty un-Hanlike (cheating on a wife, quiet, intense – I like him and I don't think he's a bad guy, mind you, just not Han-ish) and she also reveals her feelings, and that's so vulnerable. It made me hurt for her, and I didn't want her to hurt. Years ago, she gave an interview about how she'd write poems in her diary, and she'd written one about an old boyfriend, with the line, "You took my breath away, and now I want it back." I thought it was clever, but I never dreamed the 'old boyfriend' was actually Harrison Ford! But I always understood that as real people, Harrison and Carrie would have made a terrible real-life married couple and worked much better as friends. Apparently, they thought so too.

Okay, so my point is, is that in all the years I've been a Star Wars fan, I've read many an article, watched many an interview, and understood that the people who portray Han and Leia, are, in fact, NOT Han and Leia. Harrison has his own trials and tribulations, much of which came to light after his 2nd divorce, and Carrie's problems have been well known and documented since the 80s. At first (in the 80s), there were whispers that she had a bad drug habit, and it upset me greatly. I don't wish ill on anyone, let alone one of my Star Wars faves. Then she accidentally overdosed in the mid-80s, and her mental condition was revealed. I still love them, am still interested enough to watch and read about them, still think Harrison Ford is hot (Sexiest Man Alive 1998!) But if they were Han and Leia, they'd be together, not married to other people. And they wouldn't have the problems that Harrison and Carrie have. Or the problems any real people have, for that matter. Han and Leia always know exactly what to do and say because they are an idealized fantasy, and that's their appeal to me. They're safe, they're secure, and I can make them do and say anything I want in my stories. Han never has a drinking problem (I don't actually know if Harrison has or had a problem, but it's been hinted at) and he always comes through. And Leia would never indulge in drugs and is always steadfast in her leadership and ideals. That's the fun of daydreams and fan fic, after all – we have complete control with no real-life problems or shortcomings.

(Sorry, just wanted to clarify 'cuz that got a bit wordy: I had crushes on my Star Wars faves as real people and understand that they, like all real people, have faults and have feet of clay, too, and I accept that - I don't expect anybody to be perfect or act perfect and I don't hold that against them - I may not have liked some of the stuff I've read, but that's fine - they're just people doing their own thing. I also don't expect them to act like or be like their characters, Han and Leia, because Han and Leia are the fantasy couple. They're the ones I daydream about or write about, not Harrison and Carrie, but of course I use their likenesses because they portray Han and Leia. You all get it.)

I've worried over the years about the actors who portray my favorite fictional couple. They are, like the rest of us, getting up there, and I always wondered how I'd react if something happened to one of them. When Harrison crashed his plane in March 2015, I waited with baited breath until I read a tweet by his son that 'Dad is okay.' Whew. But then, December 23, 2016 happened. And I knew. I knew because of that damned yellow stucco wall. I honestly don't know how I managed to wrap presents, vacuum, clean the bathroom, and the next day, make food. I didn't want to. I wanted to make sure Carrie was okay, because ever since I first saw her as Princess Leia, she's always been dear to me as one of my favorites, because the woman was just so darn funny and unique and herself. With her penchant for self-depreciation, I just wanted to hug her and take her home and protect her, because it made her so vulnerable. The hubby knew I was upset (he was too), but we held it together for Christmas Eve. I lied to my family and told them I'd gotten some bad news about a friend (not totally a lie.) I did nothing on Christmas, except search the internet for a word about her. I knew from personal family experience that they'd put her in a medically induced coma and put her in a hypothermic state, so we probably wouldn't know anything for days. I prayed for her and her family on Monday, and checked the internet on Tuesday before I went to work. I told everyone I was upset because of my friend, and then it happened around 1:30 pm (on the East Coast.) I felt numb. I took a few long bathroom breaks to cry a little, but I made it through the day. I also felt a little relieved, too. Let me explain -

Carrie Fisher was a brilliant woman. She had more personality than anybody had any right to have. She may have lamented having to live in the shadow of her famous, beautiful mother, but she also loved her mother and worshipped her, and never felt that she quite measured up (this from things I've read.) Maybe it had to do with the fact that Carrie never quite forgave her father for his failings in life, and she was a product of not just her mother (good) but her father as well (bad.) Just my own guess. She always wanted to be beautiful like her mom, and never thought she was. But she was. She was beautiful in her own right, and she was so much more. She was bold. She was funny. She had her own style. She could write. She had talent – acting, singing, writing, and was a great comedienne. I remember once (80s) she was a guest on Johnny Carson, and when you were a guest, you sat and talked with Johnny, then moved over on the couch and stayed for the next guest, and so on. Carrie was the first guest, then another came on, someone who mentioned he had co-starred with her mother in a movie and had played her mother's lover. Just as Johnny was opening his mouth to ask a question, Carrie, feet tucked under her on the couch next to Ed McMahon, slyly quipped, "How was she?" causing Johnny, the guest, Ed McMahon and the whole audience to burst out laughing. She was perfectly and uniquely herself and it was more than enough and it was wonderful.

Many times over the years, Debbie and Carrie's brother, Todd, have done interviews about Carrie and her mental illness and how they'd almost lost her at least 17 times. Bi-Polar disorder is believed to be a condition caused by both biological and environmental factors. It is very tough to treat. There are varying degrees from mild to severe. Carrie had a severe case (again, interviews with Carrie herself.) It is very common for people with this mental illness to engage in risky behavior and to have a history of drug abuse, and the suicide rate is about 20%. I've read that many patients really like the manic part – a time marked by euphoria, creativity, joy, but also hallucinations and sometimes paranoia. Carrie said it was like being on a continuous acid trip, and that actually taking acid calmed her down to 'normal.' The depressive part is a crushingly low period and renders the person inert with crushing despair. She fought the diagnosis (which came when she was 13), suffered through the worst of it in her 20s, and came to terms with it in her 30s. She'd suffered through bad relationships, her drug addiction, her mental illness and got clean, got sober, got help, took her medications, had a baby, had some difficulties with the meds, was in a mental hospital for a few months as they regulated her meds, had shock treatments to help with the depression, and she came out the other side. She was honest about it, talked about it, was a champion for mental health. And she never lost her sense of humor. She was a warrior; Princess Leia had nothing on her in that respect.

This is why I felt a bit of relief: For all she'd been through, Carrie was back. She was writing, acting (as Princess or General Leia again), performing, and she was in a good place in her life. She was a star on Twitter and everybody looked forward to the next Carrie and Gary Fisher interview. See, she'd lived through the toughest parts of her life and illness. She made it through her 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and then at 60, when her plane touched down that day, she was happy and well. She was not a victim of her disease and it did not kill her. She didn't die a young woman with so much ahead of her, her hopes and dreams unfulfilled. She didn't die as a result of drugs or suicide. She went naturally at the age of 60, which, as I get older doesn't seem so old to me at all. We can say, "Well, yeah, but she could've had 20 more years," but none of us know of our time to go either. She lived a full, whole life. She had 60 wonderful, terrible, incredible years and she lived them out loud. She lived them fearlessly and fully. How many of us can say the same?

And let me tell you something else: I've lost both parents to very different causes. One was sick for a year and it was sheer hell on earth for him and for us (he was in his sixties.) Every day was a new tragedy of pain and despair. The other passed away just like Carrie – fine one moment, then she complained she didn't feel well, couldn't breathe, and slipped away in a matter of minutes. When my siblings and I talk of my mom, we hate that she left us, but we are always grateful it was quick and that she didn't suffer and neither did we. Trust me, if you have to go (and we all do) this is not the worst way to go. Death is always sad for the people you leave behind. It always has been. But Carrie went naturally, not by accident, not by illness, not by circumstances related to her mental state. If there's a good thing to all this, it's that: she went naturally. I've read that some people are speculating about her heart being damaged by her prior drug use, or even that maybe she was using something due to her recent weight loss (she looked very tiny!), but remember that for many years she'd been under the close supervision of doctors due to her condition, and if she had any heart problems I'm sure they were aware. And she was not alone. The brother stated on 20/20 the other night that Carrie was never alone, that she always had somebody with her. She was well enough and healthy enough, both mentally and physically, to be working and traveling. Clearly what happened was totally unexpected. Again, she'd gotten it together, she was working a lot and was in a good place in her life, and that's so much better than passing away during a bad place in her life, especially for her family and friends who can remember that she was triumphant and happy, not miserable and sad.

**The results of how Carrie died are inconclusive (as of 1-10-17.) It's true that whatever happened was unexpected and not on purpose. She definitely had a cardiac arrest, but the question is why. It's important to note that she'd been on a plane for 11 hours and when they got her to the hospital, they did blood and urine tests, among others, and could not determine anything obvious (I actually read that.) Her condition could very well be natural, or, since she was on medication for her bi-polar disorder, maybe something interacted. It will take weeks to know. (Side note - Garry Shandling's autopsy results actually took 7 months to determine what happened to him - blood clot in heart. And incidentally, Carrie dated him briefly right before she married Paul Simon. And Calista Flockhart dated him, too, right before she met Harrison Ford. I'm getting off track.) Okay, my point is, they were not able to determine through those tests at the hospital what had happened to her to cause the cardiac arrest. It could be a perfectly natural occurrence, or maybe a result of medication. Or it could be something more sinister, like a binge (but I would think they'd have found that at the hospital when they took her in, but what do I know?) Anyway, she lived a full, whole life, and even if it turns out it was something more than a natural occurrence, it definitely was not deliberate. We're all fallible, and she had a severe mental disorder that she finally owned and battled. She was still happy, working, travelling, and being herself, and was at a good place in her life. So whatever those results show, what happened was not on purpose. She was still triumphant and happy with no signs of slowing down or stopping any time soon. I just wanted to add this and to say that her family loves her no matter what, and she's still one of my favorites no matter what.

I am also oddly comforted that her mother followed her into the Great Beyond, mainly because I have read how they depended on each other and took care of each other and worried about each other. I felt so bad not just for her daughter (she's young and she'll get through this), but for her mom especially who I imagine was so lost when all this happened. It just doesn't seem like the natural order of things when your daughter goes before you (there is no natural order, really, because all things happen in this world.) But now she doesn't have to mourn the loss of her girl. The two were close; they were the loves of each other's lives (according to Todd.) They shared a sort of mother-daughter marriage in a way, and Todd says it is the only thing he is 'happy' about, that they are together.

I honestly did not know at first how I would feel about continuing my stories, **The Invitation** and **Leia's Very Bad Day**. But then I remembered what I read in **The Princess Diarist** : Carrie loved and embraced her role as Princess Leia. At George Lucas's AFI tribute ten-or-so years ago, she came onstage and introduced herself as Mrs. Han Solo. She reveled in the notoriety of that role. She loved the fans and she understood that, just as her mother's legacy was Singin' in the Rain and The Unsinkable Molly Brown, her legacy was Star Wars. Her legacy was Princess Leia, and it's something that will live on forever. She was proud to portray Princess Leia, and she should have been. She owned that role and she beat out hundreds of actresses to get it. Because of her, Princess Leia is no willowy, delicate beauty in need of rescue; she's short, mouthy, smart, pretty, determined, deadly with a blaster, and gives as good as she gets. I want to thank her for giving us a Leia like that.

I've read a few authors here who are writing good-bye fan fics for Leia, and I think this is a mistake, at least as far as I'm concerned. They can certainly do what they want, because you should always do what you feel is right in your own mind and heart and that is your prerogative. Nobody can force you to think or feel otherwise, and that's fine. But I think Carrie would be hurt and sad if we were to say good-bye to Princess Leia and if we could no longer enjoy her and write about her and her adventures. She loved Leia. She gave us Leia. When I write about Han and Leia, it's fiction I'm writing, not about the actors themselves (I'm fond of them too,) though they do share their physical likenesses and voices, which is a good thing. I think it would make Carrie happy to know that Princess Leia is still kicking ass in our imaginations, on screen, in books, and even in our fan fics.

I will be continuing my stories and writing more as well, slow as I am at it. I am 2 pages away from updating **The Invitation** (when all this horrid shit went down last week), but I am not ready to publish it at this time due to the fact that, as a fan of Carrie Fisher, I am just a little too raw right now. It's too soon, and though I did not know Carrie personally, I did know her, just like the rest of you, and I'm still mourning her. I do promise to publish it probably at the end of January, or when it feels right. And I will then be updating **Leia's Very Bad Day** after that. Like my daydreams, I find the stories fun, escapist fantasy, and in honor of Carrie's unforgettable, legendary portrayal, I will continue to enjoy that. She's given us Star Wars fans and non-Star Wars fans such pleasure over the years, I know she'd like that and appreciate it, because that's how I'd feel and that's what I'd want.

I will be deleting this 'chapter' in a few weeks, but I just wanted anyone reading my fan fics to know where I stand and that I intend to continue my stories. Yeah, yeah, I know, I don't update often enough.

I love all the stars of Star Wars for the real people they are and I wish them well. My prayers and thoughts are for Carrie and her family.

And my love for Han and Leia lives on, always.

May the Force be with you all.


End file.
